


Puppetry of the Spark

by Pantothenate



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fisting, Hacking, M/M, Mind Rape, Multi, Prisoner Mirage, Rape/Non-con Elements, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-04 15:04:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5338520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pantothenate/pseuds/Pantothenate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mirage finds out exactly how badly things can go when a masochistic telepath takes a shine to him. 9 days of torment. </p>
<p>Kinkmeme prompt for this fic is here: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/10462.html?thread=9364958#t9364958</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 9, part 3

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Very dark in places, may trigger. Not written in chronological order. 15 parts in total, all written, currently in edit.

**Day 9, part 3**  
  
He didn’t have much further to go now; Mirage could see them up ahead congratulating themselves on their apparent victory. Or what they believed was their victory. As he struggled to slowly move, each step shaking his frame and burning through to his very spark, he could pinpoint the exact moment when the mood changed. When the joviality ceased and the Autobots gathered closer, horror and fury interwoven with sadness and frustration on their faceplates.  
  
He was sure he should feel some sense of satisfaction at their expressions, that they would mourn or feel fury at the news that their plan hadn’t worked, that they were unable to rescue him. Rescue him, the bot most of them had cause to dislike, disparage or accuse of traitorous activities. Less than an orn ago, Mirage was sure he would have felt satisfaction. But now he didn’t feel anything and for some reason that terrified him more than the activities of the last nine days.  
  
He tried to call out but his vocaliser was  damaged, unable to even give voice to a low whine, and he struggled to stay upright. Below his waist all he could feel was a deep burn that stabbed sharply with every slow step he made. He didn’t dare look down, the last time he did the sight of his own energon smeared thighs combined with the dizziness that came from his newly acquired lack of balance, had threatened to topple him. Or make him purge his tanks. Perhaps even both.   
  
Mirage certainly didn’t dare allow his gaze to wander any higher, to the scratched panel between his legs and the cruelly abused and twisted equipment that lay hidden behind it. At least he’d been allowed one small dignity, by Starscream most surprisingly.  
  
Mirage was finding many things surprising and darkly amusing too-though he doubted that they were. What he currently found the most surprising was that not one of the Autobots acknowledged his slow pained approach and it definitely wasn’t a question of them looking in the wrong direction,   
  
He was finding it difficult to focus out of his one good optic, but from what Mirage could ascertain Ironhide and Optimus’ optics had aligned with his own several times but neither bot had given any indication of a reaction to his presence. In fact they seemed to be completely unaware. Though why they would be so unaware or ignore him, Mirage couldn’t fathom.  
  
Cursing inwardly, his processor aching along with his battered body as he pushed himself, Mirage ignored all the warnings that had helpfully begun to flicker up. They were unwelcome in one respect, distractive even; he was acutely aware he’d lost copious amounts of energon and that his body had been mangled, crushed, abused and tortured. Yet the warnings were welcome in another respect, he was slowly regaining control again and just the mere thought of that shot sweet relief through him. Control…finally.  
  
Admittedly not the best time for the distraction; if he’d been able to turn off his pain receptors and push the warnings aside rather than attempting to ignore he might have been able to do more than stagger like someone slagged on high grade. But it was a small price to pay in comparison. 

  
He was close to Ironhide now, the large mech only a few feet away from him as Mirage reached out a hand to grasp at Ironhide’s own. Or perhaps to fall and use the large mech as leverage. He doesn’t get a chance to find out which though because Ironhide was backing away, guns spinning as he scowled in the direction of the other Autobots.   
  
The general rule was that you didn’t talk, challenge or touch a severely fragged off Ironhide but Mirage couldn’t understand why the mech was pulling back rather than helping him. Why Ironhide even refused to meet his optic and instead transformed in an aggressive, abrasive motion before speeding off.  
  
It was beyond belief. Mirage shuddered and allowed the sensation to give way to a deep trembling that made his very spark ache. His digits curled and uncurled and he staggered desperately towards Optimus Prime, pleading etched deeply into his faceplates.  
  
_Don’t, don’t leave me. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’ve done but I’m sorry._  
  
He didn’t want to be captured, didn’t aim for that to have happened and he’s sure as Pit that he didn’t deserve the atrocities of the last few days, but Mirage couldn’t help the fission of uncertainty that gave way to deep fear and panic as Optimus shook his head, disappointment and regret obvious as he looked straight at Mirage.  
  
“Autobots, roll out!”  
  
Mirage choked on a silent cry at Optimus’ harsh tone, his body juddered as he started forward again, pushing himself faster desperately. But it was a futile gesture; all of the Autobots had begun to slowly transform, their own disappointment obvious.  
  
_Primus, what have I done. What could they think…_  
  
Energon leaked from his one good optic and Mirage gave way to silent sparkfelt sobs as he dropped to his knees.   
  
_I’m sorry, I’m sorry, whatever I’ve done I’m sorry, please come back._  
  
Horror suffused him as the other Autobots refused to even acknowledge him with a piteous glance and instead turned their back on him, following Prime slowly back towards their base.   
  
It took a long moment for reality to creep up on him and when it did, when realization – horrific, tank churning realization- suddenly struck him Mirage screamed. Silently, alone and abandoned, he screamed.


	2. Day 6

Day 6

Mirage couldn’t find the words to convey his distaste to Soundwave’s cassettes as they pawed over him. If they’d been his lovers their inexperience and curiosity would have been endearing, even arousing, but Mirage wanted to shudder as he felt them on him. He supposed he was lucky, in this instance, that his own arousal wasn’t a necessity instead the small cons were ‘learning’-guided into exploring their own bodies and that of his.

Thankfully not all of Soundwave’s cassettes had been given this ‘privilege’, though Mirage wasn’t inclined to sit and ponder just why only the select few had.

Frenzy was currently molesting his interface plates, confusion on his face as the plates refused to retract and give him access to Mirage’s sensitive equipment. Mirage smirked as the cassette screeched and glowered at the offending plates that refused to move. At another time, it could have hilarious. If it hadn’t been happening to Mirage that was. 

He sighed, not that had he any desire for it to happen to any of the other Autobots either, but he could certainly see how the scene would lend itself to hilarity if it was consensual. In truth he was surprised; while the cassettes were young they weren’t that young. Certainly more than old enough to have gathered some experience when it came to interfacing rather than this crude pawing technique they displayed.

Mirage turned his head slightly, the barest of options that he was allowed and caught sight of Rumble, seemingly glued to his neck. The cassette was sucking and biting at his neck like it was some kind of energon treat, though whether Rumble was actually getting any enjoyment out of it or just attempting to arouse a completely non-responsive Mirage, the Autobot wasn’t sure. What he was sure about was that there was absolutely no pleasure in it for him at all. In fact, although he was aware of what the cassettes were doing to his body it was with an almost clinical detachment; he wasn’t gaining any sensation from it, he was merely aware of what was happening-thank Primus.

Dropping to his knees involuntarily, Mirage swallowed back another sigh and watched dispassionately as Ravage, Laserbeak and Buzzsaw approached. Delightful, more cassettes to play with their favourite ‘toy’ as instructed by their ever-so-benevolent creator. 

Fervently glad for the disconnection between his body and mind, Mirage sensed his interface plates retract as Frenzy screeched in triumph before delving, literally face first, into touching and biting. Mirage winced inwardly as he felt Frenzy bite down too hard; he couldn’t actually feel the sensation at all-be it pain or otherwise- but he was aware that the moment he was able to it would be an unpleasant experience indeed. 

Mirage mentally cursed Soundwave for his perversions as his optics flicked down to the small cassette whose faceplates were smeared with energon. Mirage’s energon.

Lovely.

He resigned himself to their touches which had grown bolder with Soundwave’s silent instruction; the mech himself hadn’t deigned to be in the room, but was certainly watching and communicating with his cassettes. Mirage was sure if Soundwave had left them to do a ‘free-for-all’ they’d probably still all just be staring at him in confusion and frustration. Instead Soundwave was teaching them how to interface using the safest method he could utilize- their Autobot prisoner. 

Mirage supposed he was just lucky he wasn’t the one ‘giving the lesson’, that the cassettes were exploring him thoroughly although admittedly it was a very poor job at understanding how interfacing worked. The idea of servicing the cassettes seemed worse than the current abuse on his body.

He noted idly, wondering when his mind had become so desensitized to their ministrations without it registering as an extreme concern. Rumble and Frenzy were now taking turns to use his interface equipment, spike and port from what Mirage could tell. It was distasteful, yes, infuriating and humiliating, yes, but somehow those emotions were tempered down by the knowledge of just how much worse things could actually be. 

After all, the cassettes weren’t the first or the worst cons to have had access to him so far.


	3. Day 1, part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirage is taken before Megatron. Day 1 of the Pit.

**Day 1, part 1:**  
  
On any special Ops mission and in any battle it was always at the forefront of Mirage’s mind to worry that, if captured, Soundwave could and likely would hack his processor. He’d prepared himself for that eventuality, accepted that one day it might happen and when he was captured- annoyingly enough not in in battle or on anything more than a routine mission-he put his training fully in place; everything that could’ve been of possible use to the Decepticon cause was immediately deleted and purged.   
  
Now the only files Soundwave was likely to find were those of a more personal nature. Something that Mirage knew was sure to annoy the Decepticon no end.  
  
Or so Mirage believed. That was why he allowed himself a disdainful yet amused smile when Megatron ordered the hacking. It was predictable. Disturbing and a truly gross violation but it wasn’t unexpected. The rape of his mind was something he couldn’t help but fear, but the knowledge that Soundwave would come away disappointed and annoyed allowed him to see past it to something other than just that fear.  
  
Had he realized just how disturbed Soundwave would later be, he wouldn’t have been so calm.  
  
It hurt when Soundwave hacked him; the Decepticon breaking through firewalls so slowly that Mirage had, at first, thought that they were stronger then he’d been led to believe. But Soundwave had been toying with him, had enjoyed prolonging the pain as he slithered deeper and deeper into Mirage’s processor, finally curling around and suffusing it fully with his malevolent presence.   
  
Soundwave could have punched through his firewalls in a matter of moments, instead he drew it out over a cycle. Slowly and carefully penetrating Mirage’s processor, his thoughts and emotions, his memories…Mirage writhed and clamped down tightly to avoid giving voice to the pain and satisfying the other mech. It was abhorrent; the abuse, the assault on his mind and the sadism Soundwave displayed while doing it.   
  
Mirage tried to push away Soundwave’s presence as the mech sifted through his memories and thoughts, seeming to focus on some of the most intimate and emotional-replaying them for Mirage to experience, to taunt him with.   
  
During this time Mirage was at his most vulnerable and Soundwave was at his strongest, though a small amount of emotion and thought crept from Soundwave to Mirage- a leak of sorts that Soundwave didn’t waste time on closing.   
  
It gave Mirage disturbing insight into the other mech; Soundwave had a different agenda then just the one he displayed to Megatron, however it would take several breems for Mirage to gather his processor enough to deduce what Soundwave had been focused on, what had intrigued him and what emotion he’d fleetingly sensed coming from the Decepticon. Currently, Mirage was oblivious to Soundwave’s true intentions and blissfully ignorant to the dark desire within the other mech.   
  
Mirage laid on his side, struggling to push away the ringing in his audios and dark malignant mass in his processor as Soundwave imparted the knowledge to Megatron that, “all pertinent information was gone”.   
  
Predictably, Megatron flew into one of his rages but as Soundwave retreated from Mirage’s mind, Mirage’s audios caught the phrase, “other uses”. It was something that Soundwave didn’t elaborate on out loud but Mirage was suddenly aware that some kind of communication internally was taking place. Megatron’s temper had rapidly abated and he was staring thoughtfully, with a smirk on his faceplates, at Mirage.  
  
Spark sinking, Mirage managed to push himself to shaky feet as the chains attaching him to the floor creaked and bit in. In a stooped position appearing bent over in supplication and submission, a posture which was contradictory to the furious anger and defiance running through him, Mirage glared at Megatron refusing to break his gaze as the Decepticon leader smirked back.   
  
“Prepare him and ensure he is brought to me first, Soundwave.” Megatron’s optics traversed Mirage’s body, lighting up with a cruelty that made Mirage wince inwardly. “I’ve always wanted to shake to tame an arrogant high caste.”


	4. Day 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not all medic's live by 'first do no harm'. Day 5 of the Pit.

**Day 5**  
  
Mirage onlined slowly, a tinny ring in his audios as his processor slowly became active once more. Optics unresponsive, he feigned still being offline and listened to the Decepticons around him.   
  
“Slag it Starscream, you can’t keep your claws to yourself, can you?” Mirage could imagine the headshake that accompanied Hook’s annoyed words.   
  
“The Autobot insisted on being an annoyance, one which was easily subdued.” Starscream sounded haughty, though for some reason the words didn’t sit well with Mirage but his confused, aching processor couldn’t fathom why. He tried to focus on Hook’s answer but his audios were still compromised and he couldn’t catch much of any interest. Until Hook’s mutterings became louder curses that was.  
  
The engineer-come-medic was certain to notice Mirage’s new condition so Mirage reluctantly onlined his optics. At least that had been his intention. Instead of a possibly blurry, certainly prissy Seeker and fragged off Hook in front of him there was nothing. Nothing but a black void without a single flicker of light or image. His optics weren’t offline, not by choice or command anyhow, a fact that sent a chill through Mirage as he struggled to bring his digits up to his face plates. The panic only grew as his body met resistance; his arms were bound to the metal table beneath him, the bindings grating against his frame as Mirage attempted to bring his hands closer, or to pull himself up.   
  
Blind, he’d been blinded, his optics weren’t just offline they were  _gone_. Mirage keened involuntarily as his processor snapped into focus and assessed the warnings that nudged it, he wriggled trying to pull himself loose but only succeeded in twisting the bands. Processor working as frantically as his body, Mirage located the memory file from the last few breems before he had offlined but didn’t have a chance to fully access it.  
  
“Damn Autobot!” Hook was cursing anew and Mirage felt hands slamming him back down onto the table, holding him there as the Constructicon added, “Tighten the bolts Starscream, hold him still before he ruins all the work I’ve done!”  
  
Mirage heard Starscream sneering but he wasn’t paying attention to the words the Seeker said; he was still struggling against Hook, a futile gesture as Starscream tightened the bindings so they bit deeply into his frame.  
  
_No, no no…_  
  
He chanted the denial, unable to vocalize it rather than unwilling; instead he was mewling like a terrified sparkling and unable to stop it. Later he’d feel humiliation at how easily the loss of one of his senses resonated through him, shaking him to his spark but for now he embraced the horror. There was a sharp prick into one of his secondary energon lines and a cold numbness swept over him, stilling his body and confounding his processor. 

 

In only a few seconds, Mirage’s helm felt twice the size that it should be- he was unable to lift it even slightly off the table. Disturbingly calm and thankfully quiet, Mirage swum lazily through his own processor. He should be panicked, rationally he knew that, more so in fact given his sudden apathy but instead he was attempting to grasp at the file containing his memories, cursing inwardly as it slipped into the back of his processor and needed to be dragged out again.  
  
His audios picked up the word ‘Soundwave’ and Mirage wanted to protest; he didn’t want Soundwave, didn’t need the sadistic mech anywhere near him but apparently no one was listening to his inner thoughts because Soundwave slipped easily into his processor beside him. Intruding on his thoughts as easily as he intruded on his body.  
  
If Mirage could have seen the other mech he would’ve glared at him, but he settled for pushing displeasure towards Soundwave’s presence as the wily memory file associated with Starscream slipped by him again. Frag…he had the insane urge to laugh as he found himself wanting to pout and sulk at the file that eluded him, perhaps he was even doing it as well. Mirage wasn’t sure what was happening at that moment- he felt like he’d just downed several high grade cubes in one sitting. He shouldn’t feel this combination of calm, lethargic and certainly not such a lack of terror and defiance.   
  
He managed one brief act of rebellion and bit at the digits that swept close to his glossa, eliciting curses from the recipient before Mirage slipped fully into a mellow, too-calm state.  
  
_Frag_  
  
His processer was heavy but he could just about keep hold of his thoughts even if he couldn’t his body. He could also listen intently now as Hook- and Mirage now realized he was the unlucky recipient of the bite- fully repaired his audios. It was almost pleasant floating idly, no pain, no processor or spark ache, just floating lazily and listening.   
  
“Starscream displeases Megatron. Autobot no longer acutely aware.”  
  
Mirage snorted inwardly as Starscream verbalized his own thoughts. “So I messed up his toy a little, as I understand, Soundwave, Megatron has finished with this Autobot. He’s left him open for the rest of us to frag and fight over.” Mirage could imagine Starscream’s lips curling in scorn, reflecting the tone of his voice as he added, “In the correct ‘pecking order’ as the human insects call it, of course.”  
  
Mirage didn’t understand the jibe but he felt Hook stiffen against him, the Constructicon paused for a moment before moving to examine and work on his optics once more.  
  
“Soundwave displeased. Megatron displeased.”   
  
Soundwave’s tone was mostly even but Mirage could detect a hint of ‘you’ve really fragged me off’ in the words. Soundwave was extremely annoyed and Mirage had the urge, despite Starscream blinding him, to join the Seeker in a smirk.   
  
“Does Megatron want his optics replaced?” Hook sounded incredulous, no doubt the Decepticon’s had the same shortage of spare parts they did and using such limited supplies on the enemy was nothing short of stupidity.  
  
“Affirmative.”   
  
“Don’t waste your time.”  
  
Soundwave and Starscream spoke together, and Mirage could imagine them faceplate to faceplate, pede to pede, and neither one willing to concede their battle of wills.  
  
Starscream didn’t want him fixed, unsurprisingly, Soundwave…if Mirage could have shuddered he would. He knew  _exactly_  why Soundwave wanted him to have his vision back.

“Well, which is it?” Hook wasn’t about to repair Mirage with the limited supplies he had, not when a Decepticon could have used them. Then again if Soundwave and Megatron insisted…Mirage knew first hand whose decision he’d rather go with, Soundwave’s or Starscream’s.  
  
There was a tense moment only punctuated by a displeased grunt from Hook until Starscream cursed, stomping sounds that grew further away indicating his exit.  
  
“Hook will repair.” Soundwave informed Hook flatly, making Hook tense once more, pausing as Mirage presumed, to weigh up his options.  
  
“I’m not a miracle worker Soundwave, I can’t make optics appear out of nothing so unless you get me another Autobot and rip his optics out, with somewhat more care then Starscream did, then you’re out of luck.” Hook paused and then grunted, “I can give him  _one_  spare optic, it’s all I’ve got and it wasn’t an Autobot’s.”  
  
Excellent, he was being given a dead Decepticon’s optic. Lovely. At least Mirage hoped the Decepticon was dead, he didn’t want anyone coming to ‘pay him back’ for stealing said optic. He grimaced, Decepticon optic likely meant red optic; wouldn’t some of the Autobots have a lot to say about that when he got back. Doubtless he’d be accused of treachery and betrayal the moment they saw it, despite the obvious lack of a second optic.   
  
_Nice…_  
  
At least the overcharged sensation was leaving him; Mirage shuddered slightly, bitter amusement rushing though him as Hook carefully soldered around his optic hole. He could smell the slight acrid smell but thankfully couldn’t see or feel a thing, whatever Hook had given him had left his faceplates numb-in fact it was slowly spreading down most of his body.  
  
“This is going to take a while.” Hook’s words were prompting and after a momentary pause Mirage heard Soundwave’s quiet exit. In fact he was reassured of it when Hook muttered a disparaging comment about the other mech. Soundwave was about as popular as Mirage often was, although Mirage had to hope the mechs less fond of him didn’t refer to his creators in such a manner.  
  
Stiffening as Hook plugged himself directly into a port in his neck, Mirage tried to ignore the numbness that now crept down his neck just shy of said port.   
  
“Huh, guess Ratchet believes in keeping an eye on you all. Can’t see that you’d be too concerned with keeping yourself protected.”   
  
Mirage wanted to frown at that; he could only presume at what Hook was referring to- either the measures put in place to prevent sparking, which Mirage had to admit were due an overhaul and he was very glad were still firmly in place, or-  
  
“Not that I’m surprised you’re clean anyway. Megatron and Soundwave keep their patches up to date and Starscream is paranoid enough to upload any and every antiviral files he can for himself and his trine mates.”   
  
Oh, right. Well that was another relief in itself; Mirage hadn’t even considered that possibility.  
  
Hook sighed, “Of course I doubt you’ll stay that way for very long now. I imagine a mech a of your…” He paused and Mirage heard cruel amusement behind the apparent insult, “Calibre, wouldn’t lower himself to interfacing with what’s on offer with the Autobots.”  
  
Mirage was tempted not to ignore that insult, but whereas before he had chosen to remain in defiant silence the option was now taken from him. The numb sensation had swept onto his chest now, freezing his vocalizer.  
  
Hook continued to talk at him, blithely continuing a one sided conversation, “With the mechs here, well you don’t really have much of a choice per say and some of them really enjoy saving certain files for this.”  
  
It didn’t make Mirage feel any better to have his earlier questionings answered when Hooks words confirmed them. He wasn’t the first. He wouldn’t be the last.  
  
“Some of them are really nasty too, I’d better try and load you with as much as possible-wouldn’t want you spreading something unpleasant down the lower ranks. I’d only have to clean it up.” The last part was said with a good dose of bitterness as Hook rapped on his chest plates which opened immediately.

_Oh Primus_  Mirage desperately wanted to vocalize now; Megatron hadn’t taken his spark yet, the Decepticon leader had taken great delight in informing Mirage that once his army had had their fun he would take great delight in violating that sacred part of him. Before he ripped it out.   
  
Hook hadn’t touched him yet but Mirage could feel the optics of the mech focused on his spark, the digits reaching out to lazily touch and hurt and…and Hook brusquely shut his chest plates making Mirage tremble with relief on the parts of his frame that weren’t numbed.  
  
“Clean there too, no sign of shock or trauma.” Hook sighed, “I see Soundwave’s coded your plates only to open to himself, a medical code or Megatron’s, I’m sure you’re aware that if the others want to get at your spark they won’t let that stop them.”  
  
Mirage was only all too aware of that, hence why he was embarrassingly grateful for Hook’s professionalism especially since the Decepticon was a) a Decepticon and b) not a true medic.  
  
“I suppose I’d better clean you up.” Hook’s fingers deftly traced over Mirages interface equipment which sprung open from the medic’ touch as he overrode all previous commands. Mirage could tell what he was doing but couldn’t stop it. The sensation was disturbingly familiar.  
  
He still had sensation in his spike and port however, the numbing agent having not reached them yet and he tensed his lower body as Hook began cleaning the most intimate part of him.   
  
“The pecking order dictates the cassettes get the next shot at you,” Hooks tone was bitter, “Soundwave, of course.”   
  
The cassettes, oh Primus the humiliation. Mirage wanted to empty his tanks but they were already empty; it was bad enough being used as a drone by the command staff but the cassettes too…  
  
“They’ll be clean. After that it’s Barricade, then maybe the Constructicons will get a look in.” Hook snorted, “Once a gestalt, always a gestalt though Primus knows I like to keep my interfacing to myself.”  
  
Mirage felt his energon run cold at that; the touches to his spike and port hadn’t abated any in fact now seemed to be decidedly more stroking than clinical. He’d been foolish enough to feel lulled into a false sense of security equating Hook’s behaviour with Ratchet’s and believing the Decepticon would be professional. But Hook was a Decepticon, not an Autobot, one whose digits were casually sliding in and out of Mirage’s port.   
  
Now Mirage really wanted to empty his tanks; his spike was becoming numb but his port was as sensitive as ever. He hoped to lose feeling in it quickly, but so far the numbness seemed to be spreading excruciatingly slow when it came to that area of him. He could only lie there as Hook slowly teased his port with skilful digits, sending the familiar sensation of arousal through his interface equipment.   
  
He could feel his port responding to the touch, his spark heating in response and Mirage cursed inwardly. Hook was still talking at him, making conversation as he violated Mirage’s body with skilful precision.  
  
“You can’t tell me you weren’t expecting this. Attractive mech like you, I would’ve thought you’d have no end of offers.” Hook sounded amused, “Not that I imagine you’d take them up on it.  _Standards_ , I presume.”

The sneer as the word was spoken was obvious and Mirage wished for the ability to vocalize and tell Hook just what his ‘standards’ made of the Decepticon. His port throbbed in response to the digits encircling it, stroking and teasing before they delved inside, and sent a rush of humiliation through him. Although logically Mirage was aware his port and spike could well respond to any of the Decepticon’s ministrations despite his deep dislike of the situation, he couldn’t help the embarrassment at it. He pushed away the shame that tried to surface, suppressing it with rage.  
  
“I may be a medic but I’m not a drone. I can’t imagine your medic would turn this down any more then I would. Attractive mech on the table, no one in sight, no one to know…”  
  
Horror swept through Mirage as, for a microsecond, his processor considered the possibility of Ratchet behaving in the same manner. Of Ratchet violating a patient and prisoner, or even just a patient, perhaps an Autobot… it disgusted him and he felt deep self-loathing for even considering it. Ratchet was not Hook. The Autobots were not Decepticons.  
  
“Why do you think most of them keep those viruses? It’s not just to frag with the prisoners.”  
  
Next time Jazz asked him if he’d be willing to do more than just spy, Mirage swore that he would at least contemplate taking Jazz up on the request. After numerous assassination attempts on their medic, Mirage had been asked to consider returning the favour on the Decepticon’s. He’d refused, unwilling to compromise his moral stance and principals. Murdering or even harming a mech while their back was turned was very different to facing them on the battlefield. He had refused to lower himself to those standards.  
  
“And when it comes to interrogations, you know better than most how effective this is as punishment and persuasion.” Hook added and grunted, settling his body over Mirage’s.  
  
His spike thrust quickly inside Mirage’s mercifully desensitizing port as Mirage began rethinking said principals and philosophies.


	5. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirage refuses to beg. Day 2 of the Pit.

**Day 2**

  
“Beg me.” Megatron smirked at him, triumph in his optics as the Decepticon leader squeezed Mirage’s servos tightly in his own.   
  
The pain flaring through his servos made Mirage tremble, his knee joints weakening as he dropped down and crouched before Megatron.   
  
“Please, Lord Megatron.” It was pleading, almost adoring… Mirage concentrated on the pain flaring through his servos, a groan of his own forcing its way through the simpering from his vocalizer as Megatron crushed two more of his digits.  
  
“Please!” It was a whine now and Mirage hated it. He wanted to give voice to his fury, his distain; to rage against the words, the tone, and the situation. Internally he raged, screamed and pounded against the walls that kept him bound within his own processor. His vocalizer was silenced, not his to control.  
  
“More.” Megatron’s tone was softer now as he dropped Mirage’s servos and caressed the Autobot’s helm as though he were an errant lover. “Show me.”   
  
Mirage gagged even before his body moved forward, his left servo- the one less battered and crushed- fumbling with Megatron’s interface panel. He could sense Megatron’s impatience though the Decepticon leader seemed to be enjoying the mishandling at the same time, doubtlessly getting off on the fact that Mirage’s servo was damaged and caused him more pain to manipulate as he tried to manually release the panel.  
  
_Frag you._  Mirage thought savagely, putting as much emotion and rage behind it that he could as he fought to regain control. It was a fruitless endeavour but it kept him from focusing too closely on the inevitable violation. Megatron’s panel slid back with a snick, revealing the mech’s spike and port; the sight was repugnant but Mirage’s actions were more abhorrent, all the more shameful. Servos shaking, he placed them either side of Megatron’s open panel and leant forward to press his glossa to the already lubricated port. If he’d had any doubt how arousing Megatron found rape it was certainly erased now.   
  
Trying not to gag, though Mirage wasn’t even sure he physically  _could_ , Mirage teased the edges of Megatron’s port, manipulating it with an ease that Mirage had never experienced during interfacing.   
  
He was in the pit. He had to be.  
  
Trying to ignore his body’s actions, Mirage concentrated on the dark oily mass clouding his processor, holding him caged and unable to fight back. An unwilling passenger of his own body. Mirage wished he could mute all his senses but instead he tried pushing away the recognition of the taste that flooded through him, attempted to mute his own audials to Megatron’s gasps and grunts, and fought to offline his optics.   
  
At least this time he didn’t have to fight off excitement and arousal, didn’t have to feel sickened and infuriated by the sensations that had swept through him the first time Megatron had ordered him to beg or plead. That was a blessed relief; Mirage wasn’t sure he could have continued to fight on dual fronts- struggling to rebel against both his body and processor.  
  
An unpleasant musky, oily taste invaded his thought-process and Mirage jolted, unable to hide within his own processor. Megatron was bellowing now, shuddering for a moment as he overloaded and Mirage was pulled back falling on his aft as he did. A searing pain shot through him as the fall shook his abused body but he didn’t have the chance to focus on just where he hurt the most because Megatron was already grasping at him, having easily brushed off the overload. One thing Mirage had to admit, with distaste, was that the Decepticon leader had stamina. Then again, stamina wasn’t hard when access to a good grade of energon wasn’t limited; as much Megatron enjoyed limiting his soldiers he wasn’t one to go without.

Mirage’s port was already burning, throbbing in protest at what he knew was to come before Megatron pulled him close and lowered him in one fluid motion onto his spike. Mirage cried out silently, unable to give voice to his scream as his port stretched far passed comfortable, stinging deeply and sending stabbing pains straight through his body. Light helmed, he felt his shaking servos grip Megatron tightly as the Decepticon slowly eased out of him and thrust in once more.  
  
_At least it’s not my spark._  It was a tepid comfort; the pain and violation of such an act Mirage dreaded even more than this one. Megatron took his body, Soundwave took his mind but his spark was  **his**.  
  
“Soundwave.” The word was ground out in a grunt and Mirage felt his helm tilt to lock his optics with Megatron’s, “Let him go, Soundwave, I want to hear him beg properly.”  
  
It was a sudden release which made Mirage gasp, his cooling fans whirring and body trembling as he found himself suddenly able to vocalize and move his helm. The rest of his body was still under Soundwave’s control but he had at least partial control. He locked optics with Megatron once more; he could see triumph oozing from every inch of Megatron’s frame and he felt a dark rush of pleasure as he schooled his faceplates to reflect his repulsion and distain for Megatron. His vocalizer didn’t utter a sound, his derision and disgust was written all over his faceplates, there was no need for words-they would have only detracted from his message. Besides, his silent defiance was infuriating Megatron. The Decepticon leader’s anger was dark and obvious, sweeping over and displacing the triumph.   
  
“Beg.” He growled the word out, one servo shaking Mirage slightly.   
  
It sent a ricochet of pain through Mirage from his port all the way up his backstrut, his body still helplessly impaled on Megtron’s spike.   
  
It took everything within him to hold back from screaming at Megatron, from cursing and hissing, but begging wasn’t even a consideration.   
  
“Autobot refuses.” Control was ripped from his vocalizer once more but this time Soundwave’s answer came from the walls surrounding them, not Mirage’s glossa.   
  
Megratron’s optics narrowed, “Is that so?” He punctuated the question, dropping to his own knees for stability as he gripped Mirage’s hips forcing his legs open as widely as he could.   
  
It was excruciating. Mirage felt rather then heard the scream as it was ripped from him, as Soundwave rewarded Megatron’s actions by unfreezing Mirage’s vocalizer. His joints creaked ominously, stressed beyond specifications as Megatron forced his legs further apart, attempting to thrust further into Mirage’s port. His body was stuttering now, cooling fans whining and sensors screaming as Megatron’s servos gripped his hips tightly, crushing the metal of his armor, biting into his protoform as shards cracked and bent.   
  
His vocalizer burned, his scream rising in crescendo as pain seared him from inside to out. He was wavering, unable to offline and caught on the brink of it. He prayed to offline, struggling against the pain and against Soundwave as the telepath fought to keep him online, keep him tormented.   
  
Pain lashed through Mirage as Megatron drove into his body, violating it as deeply as Soundwave did his mind. Mirage wasn’t a stranger to this treatment anymore, to this game or ‘taming’ as Megatron saw it. Thankfully though he knew from experience cumulated over the last few joors that, stamina or not, Megatron was a quick face. Quick and repetitive.   
  
Mirage felt satisfaction at that, Megatron was a boring face and certainly didn’t live up to or appease Soundwave’s cravings. It was a bittersweet victory for Mirage, but one he held tightly. Anything that fragged off Soundwave was worth holding tightly to.


	6. Day 8, part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirage really hates Soundwave. Day 8 in the Pit

**Day 8- Part 1**  
  
Mirage onlined slowly, his processor was clouded and it was a moment before reality sunk back in. For one blissful moment Mirage was unaware of everything around him and then the pain caught up, sharpening him into focus. He jolted upright with a grunt.   
  
Or as upright as Soundwave allowed him. The Decepticon was gripping him tightly, straddling him and pushing him firmly back down onto the berth behind him; holding him with servos, not with his mind.   
  
“Movement not advised.”   
  
Mirage wanted to tell Soundwave just where he could put his advice, but he held his glossa refusing to lower his standards and instead held true to what manners and decorum he’d always had. Both Soundwave and Megatron wanted to break him and if Mirage lost what little he had left he would at least appear, if not be, breaking. Said manners don’t stop him from lashing out physically however, striking Soundwave on the side of his helm in an attempt to remove him. Satisfaction and glee chase through Mirage the instant his servos make contact but the motion doesn’t fell Soundwave as he had hoped, as it would have if Mirage was well fuelled and healed; instead the other bot stumbled slightly and shifted his weight in time to avoid landing his entire weight on Mirage’s right side.   
  
The glee Mirage felt faded in an instant as hot pain stabbed through his side, catching in his tanks and making them churn viciously. He shuddered for a moment, hearing a scream but not realizing it was coming from him before he heaved and coughed up energon over himself. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to bring a vile smell with it that had Mirage heaving again.   
  
Unable to hold back the whine from his vocalizer, he felt liquid gathering around his one good optic and was fervently relieved when Soundwave turned him over to lie on his side. Mirage pressed his good optic into the berth, hiding the gathered liquid as he shuddered and shook. One entire side of his body from just below his chest plates to his hips burned as through the metal there had been seared and melted into his protoform. What had they done to him?  
  
“Movement was not advised.”   
  
Mirage felt sickened as he heard the smug tinge to Soundwave’s monotone; the disgust came more from the idea that he could now differentiate different moods from the same cold tone. He  _knows_  Soundwave in a way he never wanted to.  
  
Soundwave’s servos patted his helm lightly, a slight admonishment which turned into a stroke that Mirage guessed Soundwave meant to calm or console. The motion had the opposite effect on him however, it brought anger and humiliation not peace. He offlined his optic, bracing himself as Soundwave turned him onto his back once more. It was surprisingly gentle for Soundwave but Mirage reasoned bitterly that the Decepticon didn’t want his ‘toy’ more damaged then he already was. 

Mirage was aware that he was a mess; he was also aware that he had been drugged with some form of pain relief- a heavy dose, no less. The fact that he still felt a dull ache all over and that his side was extremely bothersome scared him more than his past injuries had-with the exception of Starscream gouging out his optics that was. That hurt like the pit and despite Starscream’s reasoning and ‘help’ Mirage wasn’t inclined to thank him for it or be appeased one bit.   
  
There were more warnings than ever flashing up but Mirage couldn’t wade through them all to understand them, instead he onlined his optic and inclined his neck slightly tilting his helm to cast a critical eye over his body while Soundwave stepped off the berth and moved over to rummage in a cupboard for something. Mirage’s processor was less clouded now than when he had onlined, however, and he could attribute each injury to a cause.   
  
His hips were crushed again, not as badly as when Megatron had interfaced with him but badly enough that Mirage knew he’d be stumbling rather than walking for at least a few joors. Unless Hook decided to come out his sulk and fix him that was. Which was doubtful.  
  
The other Constructicons had denied Hook the chance to interface with him again while the gestalt took their turn. They’d been furious that Hook had not only fragged Mirage first but also that he’d done it without them and would have hidden the fact. At least he was given that small mercy; Mirage hadn’t been able to feel or see Hook raping him before but what he’d experienced just before his body went numb and what Hook had taken pleasure in describing to him had more than filled in the gaps.   
  
Mirage hadn’t wanted Hook anywhere near him again, especially not when the Constructicon had tried to crush his spark while he raped his body. The medic had said things that had had Mirage teetering on the brink of hopelessness; on re-evaluating and over analysing everything he was and everything the Autobot cause meant. Hook had, for a second, made him doubt Ratchet and then question other Autobots- those who Hook had claimed also had enjoyed behaving in a very Decepticon manner, raping and abusing.  
  
That doubt had made his spark ache more than it had from the fear of Meagatron’s threat to violate it.  
  
Mixmaster had been the one to enlighten the rest of the Constructicons though how he’d found out Mirage had no idea and cared even less. Thankfully, and how laughable was it to consider it thankful that he’d only been raped by the rest of the gestalt, Hook had been banished back to his makeshift medbay while the rest of them took turns in trying to break Mirage.  
  
But they hadn’t succeeded; none of the Decpticons had yet. Not broken his spark or processor anyhow, his body…that was another matter. The damage the gestalt had inflicted surpassed the treatment he’d been dealt as the hands of Barricade, Hook…Primus, all of the other Decepticons, including Megatron. What the Constructicons had lacked in creativity they’d made up for with bulk.  
  
Mirage glanced down once more. His interface panel was twisted, pushed back as far as it could be while still hiding his equipment mercifully, that would have added a whole new level of humiliation. Mirage could see energon still slowly tricked out from the edges of the panel and he was chilled at the thought of the damage that lay behind there. He wasn’t sure if it was the pain relief that stopped the damage making itself known or if the pain had been so great his pain receptors had melted and fried.

He tried not to dwell on it and focused on the rest of his body instead. Energon stained thighs, they weren’t hard to decipher, his gaze travelled up his body noting but discounting the dents, scratches and dings. Once upon a time, he would have been bothered by them and seen them as injuries, now he just viewed them as collateral damage.   
  
His side however, Mirage closed his servos into fists as the sight. The rough patch job Soundwave had done while Mirage was offlined needed soldering again, it was peeling slightly on one side. His brief rebellion had pulled the metal coverings from their housings and while Mirage couldn’t see what the metal wrapped over his side hid, he remembered it. He remembered it all with acute visual recollection and perfect audio. He remembered screaming, of begging without Soundwave’s prompts. Of pain and humiliation mixed with the Constructicons laughter and jibes.   
  
Ports and spikes interchanged in his memory as did the actions he’d undertaken to satisfy them. The vile oily taste of different mechs fluids, mixed with energon from his own glossa where it had been abused and forced. The searing pain of his port being taken again and again without care, the embarrassment of having his spike manipulated and trying desperately to force himself into overload when they promised it would all stop if he did.   
  
It was horrifying, had been spark crushing even, but he’d lived through it. He’d survived and he’d not broken. Not even from the excruciating heat that had lanced his side as Bonecrusher had gouged rivets down it, intent on ‘helping’ ventilate Mirage and keep him from overheating and offlining. Mirage had survived it all.   
  
And Soundwave? He’d fled Mirage’s processor in horror, unable to suffer through it. Which had finally allowed Mirage to sink wonderfully offline.   
  
Mirage clicked involuntarily at the memory, the sound sending a rush of embarrassment through him as Soundwave turned briefly in his direction and walked back over. Focus, he needed to focus on something else before Soundwave re-entered his mind and tormented him, making him relieve the memories again. Besides, thinking over what had happened only made it worse somehow.  
  
“Megatron requests Autobot’s presence.”  
  
Frag. There was something worse. 

 


	7. Day 1, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirage learns more about Soundwave then he ever wanted to. Day 1 in the Pit.

  
**Day 1, part 2**  
  
Processor rape, courtesy of Soundwave, was a worry for any Autobot and Mirage was no different in his troubled expectation of it. The rape of his body, however, had never even touched his processor. Not because he thought the cons were at all honourable though he did believe it was a line they didn’t cross, nor that he was naïve to the tortures of war, but because it was simply too repugnant to consider.  
  
Mirage couldn’t recall another mech by name who’d been witness and victim to such atrocities. Admittedly they’d been stories, hushed whispers and rumours but nothing more, nothing strengthened by true sightings of the victims or smug confessions from the cons themselves. He wasn’t sure what was worse, realizing that he might well be the first and only recipient of such a violation-which would drive his processor to distraction to work out just why he was targeted- or knowing that in vorns to come it would be his name whispered along with rumours. The latter was more shaming to him, something he wouldn’t be able to run from or deny but it would at least give him a measure of surety that nothing he’d done had singled him out for this.   
  
It was more likely was that Mirage wasn’t the first, nor would he be the last.   
  
From the reactions of the Decepticons who lined the walls outside of his cell, laughing, jibing and making uncomfortable comments regarding his person, he was not the first by any long shot. Megatron’s words had obviously filtered down through the ranks and his mechs were happy at the prospect of all having a chance to experience a high caste.  
  
Mirage didn’t resist as Soundwave pushed him into his cell, there was little point and nothing to gain. Even if he did manage to escape Soundwave the chance was minimal that he could fight his way past all the cons, especially with cuffs holding him still in a tight, stooped bondage. Cloaking himself would do him no good either, currently in fact it wasn’t even an option; Soundwave had effectively disabled it the moment he had Mirage in cuffs and while Mirage’s self-repair was already viewing the disabling as a problem to be rectified it would be joors before he could attempt such a venture. And given that Mirage wasn’t functioning at 100% effectivity anyway and was likely to be functioning at a lot lower percentage when he saw Megatron again, the chances of the repair happening anytime soon was minimal.  
  
A lot of the cons had drifted quickly away, Mirage’s disdainful distracted look and his lack of response to their comments having more of an effect then telling them to ‘frag off’. Some still remained, taunting Mirage with descriptions of what he was to ‘enjoy’ when in their presence and under their control but the Autobot ignored them. If he allowed himself to focus on what they were saying, on the violent promises they made, he would find functioning difficult- too overwhelmed by fear and loathed anticipation.  
  
Mirage found himself analysing each Decepticon that approached his cell, ignoring their words and focusing instead on looking for weaknesses and running through possible avenues of escape. He was no Prowl, but when it came to survival he had options, ideas and possibilities to ponder. Whether any would truly work was another matter altogether but the distraction kept Mirage’s processor from focusing and exploring anything unpleasant. Still the joors passed far slower than Mirage wished.

Megatron hadn’t been down to the cells and Mirage doubted he would. The Decepticon leader was likely allowing his captive time to think over the concept of ‘taming’, time in which said thoughts would become more and more vivid and creative. Mirage had no doubt that many an Autobot had been left to stew over worries and become immersed in fearful anxiety, even if they’d not been privy to the same anticipated treatment. An anxiety made all the worse as Megatron or said punishment and interrogation remained absent.   
  
But Mirage was ignoring Megatron; he was ignoring the small part of his processor that protested, screamed and worried over the idea of being tamed. Over the rape that was sure to occur but was too repugnant to conceptualize.   
  
Instead he was focusing on facts and certainties, on other distractions that he could mull over.  
  
The command trine had been absent from the cat-calling, lewd glossaed Decepticons though Mirage wasn’t even going to hazard a guess as to why. Simply put, he wasn’t interested. He just hoped they remained absent for the duration of his incarceration. Seekers were said to have the highest stamina or all Cybertronians and Mirage had no desire to experience three-on-one and find out just how true the statement was. Though he had, upon a time, once wondered if the statement was a truth or more a cultivated rumour- straight from a Seeker’s arrogant ego.  
  
A missing Starscream was only a worry to Megatron, not to Mirage.   
  
The other Decepticons were easy enough to put faceplates to names and none were of interest to Mirage to dwell too much on. Stunticons, Combaticons, Hook, the Cassettes, the Coneheads although that trine had taken one look at Mirage and backed away without saying a word, Soundwave-  
  
Mirage grimaced, speak of the mech…Soundwave had barely said a word to him since his capture; instead he’d taken to watching, observing and sneaking around in Mirage’s processor. Said mech was now standing outside the bars of his cell, eyeing Mirage thoughtfully though what thoughts and notions he had were masked in stoicism.  
  
Mirage intended to rush at the con once the cell was fully open; although he doubted he’d get far there seemed to be no cons milling around to taunt him anymore, which meant there was a chance of escape. Except Soundwave was a pit-spawned telepath and forestalled his actions with a comment.  
  
“Idea not advised. Megatron eager to make Autobot’s acquaintance.”  
  
It wasn’t something Mirage was eager to do and to highlight this he moved to ignore the advice and rush at Soundwave, but Soundwave moved extremely fast or perhaps it was Mirage who moved slower than normal, hampered by the chains Soundwave had left binding his chestplates. Whichever way, Soundwave had him pinned, backstruts ground painfully into the wall behind him.   
  
Mirage hissed in surprise, the sound involuntary and uncouth, but Soundwave merely tightened his grip sending an ache deep into the struts and along his frame.  
  
“Idea not advised.” Soundwave spoke coldly, and Mirage felt something stab at his frame, right under his arm joint. It was painful, making him bite his glossa to avoid giving voice and satisfying Soundwave; he felt the needle/appendage, whatever the Primus-damned thing was, worm and burrow deeply until it sat snugly on the nerve receptors of his processor. For a second it just sat there, unwelcome and intrusive, then it enveloped his receptors and spread like fire through them. 

A moment later and the fiery bite faded, it now felt like he’d been injected with freezing coolant. His body felt sluggish through his processor was unaffected by the sensation. He could still think, could still see and hear everything clearly.   
  
It didn’t last for long though; warnings stared flashing up as his body began to act of its own accord. Mirage could see firewalls updating, warnings and messages flashing up as his diagnostic system listed them all and downloaded them to an external source. He was breeched, paralyzed, and unable to control his own body. His commands ignored and locked into set tasks which Mirage couldn’t interrupt or stop. It was worse than hacking, much more intimate a violation as his body ceased to be his own and was instead an extension of Soundwave’s.  
  
Terror swept through him, his cooling fans whining in response to his emotions as Mirage struggled to claw back some control.   
  
Soundwave, it was all Soundwave. Everywhere, all over and all through him. In his processor, in his body…Mirage stuttered as his arms dropped limply, his body placid as Soundwave removed the chains around him. Horror suffused him as his chest plates opened and his spark chamber was exposed of its own accord. Of  _Soundwave’s_  accord. He could only watch, his body tense and spark jolting as Soundwave reached towards the bright light. His plates were only open a second, but to Mirage it was more like a breem.   
  
He watched as commands flashed before his optics, his spark chamber intimately bared and examined before being closed and locked tightly down with codes only available to Soundwave and whomever else the mech deigned to impart them to.   
  
Being bared so intimately, having never done so for any other but his Creators and medics, was terribly hurtful to Mirage- it was humiliating in itself but coupled with his inability to mount any kind of resistance- it was shameful. He knew that feeling ashamed, feeling exposed and dirtied was a trick of his processor as was the anger he felt towards himself for allowing it to happen. He knew he had made no decision, that Soundwave gave him no choice in the matter, but it didn’t stop the feeling coming.  
  
_Contaminated…_  
  
He shuddered. Soundwave’s very presence was contaminating him; Mirage could feel it in his processor, in his audios, behind his optics. Soundwave was more powerful than before and took over his very person, leeching off Mirage as the Decepticon played puppeteer- Mirage’s body was no longer his own as his arms and legs moved, pedes stamping and optics onlining and offlining. Soundwave testing, toying and controlling.   
  
Mirage started as Soundwave snapped a chip in place at the back of his helm. He could feel it like a tiny invader, still pumping Soundwave’s presence into him even when the mech stepped back. Soundwave swept inside Mirage’s mind, more controlled then before if that was even possible, calm and moving with a sure purpose, but he was also excited. Sadistically excited. Mirage could feel it, deep excitement which became more satisfied as one breem bled into another and Mirage lost more and more control. Only his processor remaining his own, his processor…and his vocalizer.

“I’m going to send you to the pit.”  
  
Mirage could hear the weariness behind the conviction in his statement. He didn’t think the words, they came to his glossa involuntarily but they were  _his_  nonetheless and Mirage meant every word of them-despite how distasteful he found threats.   
  
Though Soundwave gave no response Mirage could feel his excitement grow, becoming another recognizable emotion that Mirage would never have attributed to Soundwave-arousal. Soundwave’s naked needs and desires were laid bare before him as exposed as Mirage’s had been but Mirage could only feel them, he couldn’t manipulate like Soundwave was able. Thankfully. He noted a sickening truth that boded badly for his own future- Soundwave wasn’t  sadistic. Soundwave didn’t intend to hurt him himself and he was reviled by the idea of interfacing with Mirage. The realization should be relieving but the truth was far more terrifying, far sicker than Mirage could have imagined. He realized just what he had sensed before when Soundwave had hacked him, the intention, the idea, the execution.  
  
Soundwave wasn’t a sadist, no, Soundwave wanted to be a  _masochistic_. He wanted someone to tame him, to use him and abuse him, but he didn’t want to lose the respect he had. Soundwave doesn’t intend to bow before anyone in the way that aroused him the most; it wouldn’t be seemly in his position, nor would it be wise. The only mech he could happily be submissive to and not have his place subverted was to Megatron himself, but Megatron showed only a great distain for the idea of having his TIC in any way shape or form.  
  
So Soundwave intended to use Mirage’s body as a safe way of being submissive. Megatron would believe that Soundwave had chipped Mirage to make Mirage docile or a puppet, a pleasure drone who won’t say no and will do as ordered. Megatron believed he would be breaking the Autobot in body and spirit, that Mirage would be commanded by the chip if Megatron wished it. Instead Soundwave would be the mech running the whole show. And enjoying it.


	8. Day 8, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirage is surrounded by Decepticons, all braying for his spark. Day 8 in the Pit.

**Day 8- Part 2**  
  
Thoughts of returning to the Autobots, of a rescue, was the one thing Mirage was holding firmly to. He knew Optimus Prime wouldn’t abandon him, but he also knew he wasn’t a popular bot and so others might not have such a commitment. He also knew that his disappearance would no doubt have caused some Autobots to distrust him more, likely believing he was living it up with the other Decepticons in deep praise for having tricked the Autobots into believing he was one of them. It was darkly amusing how far from the truth those bots were and how shocked they would be to see him now.  
  
_You’d like them to see you now, wouldn’t you_?  
  
He started as the thought came out of nowhere and scanned his processor furiously for a sign of Soundwave’s presence, but there was nothing else there but his own self and Mirage could clearly see Soundwave in front of him, leading him to Megatron.   
  
He should have felt fear at that but all Mirage felt was shame sweep through him as he acknowledged that deep dark part of him that would want the Autobots who had judged and loathed him in the past to be faced with the truth. In the depths of his processor there was a part that did want them to know, to show a physical proof that pointed to say ‘see, see, I told you I wasn’t working for the Decepticons’.   
  
But there was an even bigger part that felt humiliated at the thought. That couldn’t comprehend looking any of them in the optic again if they knew. That would rather push all this behind him and to the back of his processor then feel shamed and embarrassed and feel their eyes on him and see their pity.   
  
Mirage clenched his servos as he stumbled forward. His hips hadn’t had time to be repaired by Soundwave, let alone self-repair, and the patch job Soundwave had done on his side wasn’t anywhere near medic-class. The fact his interface panel seemed to be hanging on just by the will of Primus made him tread more carefully in order to keep it held in place.   
  
Mirage was so intent on carefully keeping his body from jolting that he didn’t notice when Soundwave ushered him into the room, but the deathly silence within it permeated the air and captured his notice. Helm tilted upwards, he locked his optic with Megatron’s and surveyed the gloating Decepticon. Megatron was looking him up and down, making Mirage shift involuntarily as self-consciousness flooded over him. Megatron was sneering as he looked Mirage over from helm to pedes, obvious smug satisfaction flooding his faceplates that had Mirage wanting to give a crude retort, to show Megatron his spark was unbroken.   
  
But he remained silently defiant, knowing that it would infuriate Megatron more and convey to the leader just how unbroken he was- how ‘untamed’. Megatron and his mechs may have broken his body but not his spark and not even Soundwave had been able to break his processor. So far.  
  
Megatron’s earlier threat loomed at the back of Mirage’s processor though, the promise to take and then rip out his spark when Mirage was deemed properly tamed. Only the sure thought that he was not tamed by any measure kept Mirage from dwelling on that threat.   
  
That and he knew now just how dire the energon shortage now was for the ‘cons. No doubt Prime had made a deal of sorts that they would jump at. 

The only other worrying aspect was the quiet cons that surrounded him on all sides; mostly quiet that was, Rumble and Frenzy were giggling in a corner together and occasionally shooting glances his way while Scrapper and Mixmaster made –apparently meant to be subtle- crude gestures at him.   
  
“Well, well, you lasted longer than I thought you would high caste.”  
  
Mirage bristled as Megatron sneered out the phrase, making it appear an insult directed at him. He refrained from replying, reassuring himself that the sound of his name dropping from Megatron’s vocalizer would have been so much worse.  
  
“Apparently your  _friends_ -“ the sneer was worse this time punctuated by cat calls from the gathered Decepticons, most of which speculated on Mirage having any kind of standing with the Autobots aside from pleasure bot, “have noticed your absence. Prime has deigned to negotiate and offer up an adequate amount of energon for your release.”  
  
_Thank Primus._  Mirage’s knee joints would have given way if they weren’t so tensely locked. He fervently thanked any and everything for the intervention though his internal celebrations dropped off as he noticed the look on Starscream’s faceplates. Pity… Starscream stared at him in pity, his trine behind him appearing also as uncomfortable and pitying.  
  
That alone sent a chill through Mirage and he looked straight into Megatron’s optics.   
  
“Of course,” Megatron paused to lazily push himself from his anointed ‘throne’, “The amount of energon was only ‘adequate’ and on that Prime wouldn’t be swayed.”  
  
Mirage felt dread rush through him as the cat calls grew again; the gathered Decepticons evidently wanted to see their leader violating Mirage, abusing his body and his spark. Instinctively he half-turned but Soundwave was behind him, blocking any possible exit.   
  
Mirage had no time to worry anymore; the laughs, jeers and prompts from around him merged into a long scream of sound as Megatron grasped at him. Megatron was surprisingly fast when he wanted to move and his grip crushing, Mirage braced himself for the worst.  
  
“Pathetic.” Megatron barked out a laugh before dropping Mirage painfully onto his back. Looking Mirage up and down, his optics taking in the results of his mechs ministrations, Megatron’s glossa curled in disgust. “Broken.”   
  
Mirage wanted to protest against it, but the terror that overwhelmed him barely allowed him anything. He managed to shoot a glare at Megatron but it was all he could gather. Surprisingly, it was enough. Megatron’s optics blazed with fury, anger curling his servos as he stared down at Mirage.   
  
“Nothing more than a pleasure bot.” Megatron spat out the insult, lunging forward suddenly allowing Mirage no time to brace himself for whatever would come. His servos grabbed the edge of Mirage’s damaged interface plate and pulled, hard. Mirage screamed as metal screeched, pain arching through his receptors for one horrendous moment before it went numb. His pain receptors had fried, had been broken beyond repair and as a consequence his entire panel was numb-useless. And humiliatingly exposed. 

Mirage grasped at his port and spike, covering them as best he could with his servos. If his panel hadn’t been close to hanging off, Megatron would have dug his talons in and mutilated him beyond repair. He swallowed a whimper as he watched his interface panel being tossed from Decepticon to Decepticon, fought over by some and played with by others. Only Barricade stood with his arms crossed, his disdain for the entire proceedings unhidden.   
  
The ‘game’ probably could have gone on for a breem but then his interface panel was caught by Skywarp, who handed it to Starscream. Mirage watched the air commander stare down each Decepticon haughtily before nodding curtly to Megatron, accepting the ‘prize’ as Megatron saw it. For once the leader seemed pleased by his Second’s actions and possessiveness.  
  
“No better than a human insect.” Megatron was speaking again, punctuating each word this time with a punch to Mirage’s body, aiming for his helm, his chest plates, his barely hidden interface equipment.   
  
“Since you refuse to speak, you’ll hardly miss this.”  
  
Pain made Mirage whimper but it was silent, though not by choice this time as Megatron punched his vocalizer, crushing it to the point of muting. He gagged, his tanks churning as he purged on the floor.  
  
“I wouldn’t waste my spark on you.”  
  
Megatron muttered it softly, directly into Mirage’s audio making the Autobot flinch. There wasn’t the relief he’d hoped and anticipated such words would bring. Instead they brought shame, for a fleeting shocking microsecond they brought disgust that he was so dirtied, so contaminated, that Megatron wouldn’t go through with his threat at the risk of spreading it to his own spark.  
  
_He’s going to offline me_  
  
The thought should have terrified him more but it was strangely wistful, preferable to staying online to Megatron’s ministrations. He stuttered, his engine choking as Megatron boxed one side of his helm and then the other, leaving his audios ringing.   
  
_I’m going to the matrix and I don’t even care_    
  
In fact at that moment Mirage welcomed it. Preferred it to being left at the point of offlining, violated body and processor and obviously so. He didn’t want any more pain, disgrace, or the shame and doubt that kept tearing at him. He could only hold true to the thoughts and hope of rescue or return for so long, as his body was battered and broken; curling himself into a ball, Mirage let the fiery pain envelope him as warnings assaulted his processor as much as Megatron’s punches did.   
  
Tired, untamed and desperately fighting not to break, Mirage felt himself wavering, the jeers becoming a high pitched whine as his processor swiftly shut down against the assault.


	9. Day 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Starscream's turn. Day 4 in the Pit for Mirage

**Day 4**  
  
“Yo Screamer, Boss says it’s your turn.”  
  
Mirage schooled his faceplates in a perfect expression of distain as they waited outside the door to the Trine’s quarters. He could clearly hear the smugness in Rumble’s tone, he didn’t need to look down at the Casseticon and see the smirk that was sure to be written all over him.  
  
Frenzy yanked the chain that wrapped around Mirage’s neck, hard, almost bringing him to his knees at the sudden jerk. Holding his glossa, refusing to dignify Frenzy’s action with a response, Mirage staggered slightly as he pushed himself up as tall as he was able to.

  
_Little Slagger…_  
  
It wasn’t as though Frenzy and Rumble’s precious ‘Master’ would have allowed him to escape anyway, the chains were unnecessary when Mirage had Soundwave lurking excitedly at the back of his processor just waiting to play puppeteer. Frenzy was on a power trip, Mirage could see it in his optics as he turned his gaze to the small Decepticon; being made aware by Soundwave that he, and his siblings, were next in line to ‘enjoy’ Mirage had made Frenzy and Rumble cocky and excited. They’d enjoyed escorting Mirage to Stascream’s rooms. Taking the longest possible route as they dragged the physically bound and mentally chained Autobot passed all the other Decepticons, all the while jeering and making loud crude references to the games they would soon play so that all Decepticons within audio range could hear.  
  
Mirage had seen quickly enough that his lack of response and emotion had annoyed the cassetticons and he’d held true to it, partly because it was * **him** * and * **his** * action- he owned it. Also, it pleased him to put their processors out of joint, though acknowledging on any level that it was out of satisfied malice seemed somehow wrong.   
  
“Our turn already?”   
  
Thundercracker’s question drew Mirage’s focus and he looked up, surprised by himself for a moment-he hadn’t even heard the door open, so lost in his own thoughts but now as he looked at the Seekers he recognized the strange sensation gathering at the back of his processor, becoming stronger and more defined every second. Arousal, excitement, Mirage shuddered at the emotions which were so clearly not his and very much unwelcome.   
  
Soundwave had an interest in Starscream it seemed and was all the more excited to see that it wouldn’t just be one Seeker taking a turn with Mirage but all three. Mirage felt sickened and a healthy amount of fear at the thought of three-on-one with Seekers. Seekers were rumoured to be among most imaginative when it came to interfacing and had high interface drives and stamina to match. Mirage could see the Decepticon flyers having some cruel and creative ideas and Soundwave’s masochistic fervour certainly wasn’t helping temper the thought.   
  
“Yup.” Rumble was bouncing slightly, slag eating delight and exuberance obvious as he tossed the end of the chain to Starscream who caught it on reflex. “He’s all yours, Boss just says no maiming, no mutilating and no trying to bond.”

 

_As if rules mean anything to Starscream, he’s likely to rip out my spark just to spite Megatron and Soundwave._  As much as every part of his being was ready to fight to survive, if he was going to be offlined Mirage would have preferred it sooner-with less violations- than later.  
  
Frenzy snorted, his words jittery and stumbling as he added to Rumble’s recital, “He also says no taking it easy on him, Megatron wants him broke. Broke good.” His optics gleamed with malice, his excitement just as obvious as Rumble’s.  
  
_And what Megatron wants, Megatron gets. Or rather what Soundwave wants._  Mirage thought tiredly as he locked optics with Starscream. The Seeker wasn’t paying him any notice or attention, certainly not appraising him or appearing to gloat, instead Starscream’s attention was firmly fixed on the two small Casseticons.  
  
“I see.” Starscream glowered down, “I have little patience for your Master’s-“ He made the word sound insulting, derogatory and both Frenzy and Rumble stiffened as Starscream continued, “-rules and absolutely no inclination to abide by them.” His tone was snide as he looked the small Decepticons up and down, his loathing obvious.   
  
Mirage could feel Soundwave vibrating at the back of his processor, part affronted by the refusal and part delighted by it. Revulsion swept through Mirage as he was held hostage to ideas and images; Soundwave’s creativity was lacking but his knowledge and arousal was not. All in all, Mirage was sure unpleasant times lay ahead for him and likely very pleasant-or exiting, more apt a word as that was- for Soundwave, at least.   
  
The staring contest between Starscream and the two Cassettes had somehow drawn to a close and Mirage had missed who’d reluctantly given leave first but from the muttered curses coming from Frenzy as the Cassettes turned, Mirage guessed Starscream had proved victorious. Small and petty victory that it was.   
  
His optics met Starscream’s, challenging him; he projected as much defiance as he could with that look, refusing to break the stare. At least until Starscream tugged viciously on the end of the chain pulling him forwards and into the large quarters.   
  
_Joy…_  
  
His gaze broken by the sudden jerk and resulting motion, Mirage took a moment to look at the other two Seekers, Thundercracker and Skywarp. He felt a tremor run though him though the movement wasn’t his involuntary action but that of the parasite within him. Soundwave’s excitement infected his processor, making Mirage’s port heat, his spike pressing against his interface equipment.  
  
What the pit Soundwave was getting off to, Mirage didn’t want to know. The scant visions, leaked through his processor from Soundwave were enough to assure him that Mirage really, really didn’t want to know yet was unfortunately going to find out. What Soundwave lacked in creativity, he made up for in cruel intelligence and knowledge. 

“I won’t lower myself to this.” Thundercracker’s flat refusal drew Mirage’s gaze to him. Thundercracker was tense, defensive, arms crossed over his chest plates as he locked optics with Starscream. Beside him, Skywarp nodded, agreeing silently as he too looked to Starscream.  
  
* _Autobot unattractive to them_ * Soundwave’s monotone reverberated in his processor, too loud and invasive as he spoke directly to Mirage for the first time since he’d begun playing puppeteer. _*Seekers dislike groundpounders_.* Soundwave’s tone broke a little as he recited the common Seeker term and Mirage could feel his annoyance, the dislike, for both the name and the insult it was meant to be. At least it seemed to have tempered Soundwave’s ardour, for the moment Mirage’s interface systems had calmed down and were no longer heated in readiness.   
  
Soundwave didn’t like to feel beneath anyone, lower than any, with the possible exception to Megatron. Even then, Mirage wasn’t sure Soundwave did see himself as lower than the Decepticon Leader; something he felt for one fleeting moment from Soundwave had him wondering whether Soundwave didn’t feel exactly the same as Starscream but just refused to let his belief show or pit himself against anyone.  
  
“Do you really think I want to?” Starscream was defensive now, body tense and glare directed from one trine mate to the other, “Fragging Megatron.” He hissed out the name before turning his attention back to Mirage.   
  
“Let’s just get this over with.” Skywarp spoke quickly to break the tension, taking the chain from Starscream and looking at Thundercracker who nodded, reluctantly.  
  
_*Megatron’s authority superior.*_ Soundwave’s tone was smug and Mirage had the distinct notion that Soundwave actually meant that  _his_  authority was superior, not Megatron’s. He didn’t have a chance to dwell on the thought though as Starscream grabbed him by his arms, pushing him fully to his knees.  
  
Mirage offlined his optics as Soundwave vibrated in excitement; he knew this game, knew what to do and how to do it. Knew the insults and jeers that were sure to come. He knew the degradation…  
  
“Look at me.” Starscream’s tone was cold and demanding, but Mirage defied it refusing to online and lock optics with the Seeker. That was until Soundwave fully asserted himself and onlined them for Mirage, eager for the games that were sure to come.   
  
Unable to look away from Starscream, Mirage felt Soundwave start in surprise and at the same time he tensed as Starscream bent down and grasped the bottom of his helm. The Seeker’s fingers pinched as they dug in and Mirage felt himself shudder, in repulsion for his part but in delight for Soundwave’s, as Starscream leant forward.  
  
_I’ll bite his glossa._  The threat was tempting, but the thought was wasted as Soundwave seized rough control of all of Mirage’s body. Evidently Soundwave wasn’t about to let Mirage spoil the mood and had already bought Mirage’s entire interface system back online with one thought. His interface plates hummed, readying to retract and allow Starscream access, his port throbbing with Soundwave’s arousal and need. 

 

_Frag to it all._  Mirage could feel humiliation course through him as Starscream’s gaze dropped downwards to his seemingly-eager equipment. For a moment, he had visions of Starscream ripping back the plates, thrusting his spike inside his thankfully lubricated port as the other two bared their spikes…  
  
Mirage raged against the vision which was brought about from his own fear, and twisted by Soundwave into something the Decepticon hoped for, something that brought pleasure to him.   
  
“Stop.”   
  
That was unexpected, both to Mirage and Soundwave. For a moment Soundwave stumbled mentally, allowing Mirage to take back control of his body and slam his slowly opening interface plates closed with a thought. It was a minor victory but relief flooded Mirage as he locked optics with Starscream, readying his own defiant glare which quickly melted into obvious confusion at the anger he saw in Starscream’s optics.  
  
Starscream was glaring at him, bending forwards to bring his optics closer to Mirage’s as his gaze bore through Mirage seeming to try and look deep inside him. Deep into…his spark? Mirage stared at him, shifting uncomfortably at the deep, hate filled look that was directed at him for no apparent reason. He was the victim here, he was the one being violated and about to be so once again yet Starscream’s intense look implied otherwise. Mirage couldn’t work out just what it was saying though, he could only assume Starscream was so deeply put out at having to lower himself to interfacing with an Autobot, groundpounder, hated high caste or whatever, that he see saw himself as the victim.   
  
“I know you’re in there, Soundwave.”   
  
Mirage jolted in surprise, feeling a matching emotion flowing from Soundwave as the Decepticon slowly uncoiled from Mirage’s processor and took control of Mirage’s vocalizer.  
  
“Soundwave…observing. Autobot under control. Requires Soundwave’s attention.”   
  
Mirage wanted to seize control back and deny the half-truth but Starscream’s laugh belayed the action. The laugh was short and unpleasant; Starscream’s bitter amusement was obvious to both Mirage and Soundwave as he leant in closer. This time Mirage recognized just where the intense glare was directed-at Soundwave.  
  
“You take me for a fool, Soundwave.” Starscream’s tone was soft, dangerous, “I can see you in there, lurking like one of your cassette parasites. The Autobot’s not the one leading the show here, you are.”  
  
“Starscream misunderstands.”   
  
Mirage winced at the snooty reply; he could see anger chasing itself across Starscream’s faceplates.  
  
“Do I now.” Starscream’s tone was silky and while Soundwave seemed to take this to mean Starscream believed his story, Mirage could see fury lurking on Starscream’s face and the obvious danger the Seeker radiated.

“I misunderstand?”   
  
Mirage tried pushing at Soundwave’s presence in warning. He didn’t particularly care what Starscream actually wanted to do to Soundwave but he did care about Starscream’s intent while Soundwave was inside his body. Soundwave ignored him though and replied curtly to Starscream using Mirage once again, “Affirmative.”  
  
“I see.” Starscream stepped back, his grip transferring to Mirage’s arms as he pulled the Autobot up to a stooped stand, the chains biting in as Soundwave attempted to straighten Mirage’s body, forgetting about the chains for a moment.   
  
“Skywarp. Thundercracker.” The names were a purr as Starscream gestured to his trine mates to move closer. The two other Seekers were obviously on edge, expecting something as acutely as Mirage was but they stepped closer to Starscream and began softly petting him, trying to ignore the situation as it was.  
  
Mirage felt Soundwave’s desire chase through his body at the sight, heat pooling in his interface equipment and spark. Soundwave seemed blissfully, arrogantly unaware of the danger that Mirage could sense. While Soundwave was oblivious and losing himself in his own arousal, Mirage was cold and felt nothing but dread settle over him. It was wrong, so very wrong; Starscream was up to something unpleasant.  
  
For all intents and purposes, Starscream appeared to be losing himself in the twin sensations that covered him as Thundercracker and Skywarp teased him with soft, deliberate touches. In fact Starscream was starting to make noises that made Soundwave metaphorically pant with desire as he watched, all while Mirage waited with trepidation for the moment Starscream turned. Mirage was fighting the sensations of wantneedlust that surged through him, thankfully the worry tempered them some and allowed him some measure of control to push aside the feelings and recognize that they weren’t his own. Even if it was his interface panel retracting, his spike starting to emerge as his port wantonly leaked lubricant.   
  
Soundwave was really getting off on the sight in front of him, trembling in frustration and need as Starscream threw back his helm letting Thundercracker assault his neck and chest plates with his glossa; then Starscream was forgotten as Skywarp seized Thundercracker’s glossa in a harsh kiss and drew Soundwave’s attention.   
  
At least forgotten by Soundwave; Mirage was acutely aware of Starscream rather than distracted by the other Seekers, he clearly saw everything in surprising slow motion as Starscream lunged towards him with outstretched, sharp talons….  
  
And then he saw nothing at all. Vicious pain spiked through Mirage’s helm, warnings flashing before his eyes as both he and Soundwave screamed as one, agony rushing through them both. His optics, oh Primus, Starscream’s talons had pieced through his optics.  
  
Mirage heard himself screaming, howling out his horror as Soundwave shared the terrible pain with him. Soundwave was shrieking in horror, all of his holds on Mirage’s body dropped as the pain swelled and was shared between them. For one horrible moment, Mirage felt himself cling to Soundwave’s presence before he fought it off. Whether it was to seek comfort or out of malice to prolong Soundwave’s pain and share his own, Mirage wasn’t sure. 

Then Soundwave was gone, leaving Mirage to suffer the agony alone and anew as Starscream’s talons gripped and ripped, gouging his optics out. He heard himself begging, pleading at Starscream with unintelligible words as his shoulders were suddenly gripped tightly again, Starscream no doubt returning for another assault and then something cuffed him on the side of his helm bringing with it a blessed numbness that spread over his faceplates.   
  
His pain receptors had overloaded. Or been taken offline. Mirage didn’t give a frag which, he didn’t care about much anymore. The pain still haunted him from the edge of his processor, a terrible memory that Mirage wanted to push away and deny. But he couldn’t. He could only sob and tremble, warmth dripping onto his chest as he was lowered to sitting. His engine choked and stuttered, both processor and body unwilling and unable to fight any more-just awaiting the inevitable. Waiting for Starscream to rip open his chest plates and take his spark, rip it out or violate it Mirage didn’t care which he just wanted it all to stop.   
  
He flinched as someone moved closer to him, someone who spoke with quiet malice, “If you’re very, very lucky, Autobot, Soundwave won’t want a broken toy. If you’re not, then you’d better hope he gets bored soon.”

 

 


	10. Day 9, part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was alone. Terrifyingly alone. Day 9 in the Pit.

**Day 9, Part 5:**  
  
Mirage sank fully to the ground, misery and bitter disappointment overwhelming his horror as he realized that the Autobots hadn’t seen him,  _couldn’t see him_ , and he couldn’t make a sound to call them back. If he’d realized sooner, thought quicker, perhaps he could have attracted their attention some other way but it was too late, they were already gone.   
  
He couldn’t even see them now, too far away with only tire tracks left in their wake and his one good optic-his only optic- was straining as it was. Uncalibrated and jarred loose after Megatron’s parting blows, the optic now stood less chance of staying in place then his interface panel did. That, at least, had been firmly welded to give him some semblance of dignity.   
  
Mirage choked on silent, dark laughter. Primus, wasn’t this just the biggest irony? He’d spent joors agonizing over what the other Autobots would think when they saw him, what their reactions would be to his obviously violated and used state, and they hadn’t even been able see him. Couldn’t even rescue the bot this whole fight and the surrender of so much hard-worked for energon, had been for.  
  
He sobbed silently, helm pressed to the ground, bent over in a position he was devastatingly familiar with after orns of abuse.   
  
He was alone. Terrifyingly alone. He had no way of communicating with any of the other Autobots, Soundwave had seen to that before he’d repeatedly raped Mirage’s processor. No way to shout or call for help physically, Megatron had seen to that and his body was…useless.   
  
The warnings Mirage could read were unable to deny now. Low on energon, body battered and twisted, virus courtesy of prime-only-knew-who lurking on the edge of his processor-fighting for entry and no doubt up to malicious mischief. Cloak in full effect; he was unable to lower it by his command and possibly even Ratchet could do nothing…. he vented out a deep shuddering breath, tasting energon and watching it splatter on the ground in front of him. Not a large amount, not usually something too dire to worry about, but given his situation Mirage knew that without Ratchet, without the medic’s personal brand of determination and skill, he was going to offline. Permanently. 

While the idea hadn’t ever been far from his mind, this was the first time Mirage despised it. Before it had brought a tinge of relief, but now it only brought bitterness. He offlined his optic for a moment, letting the quiet around him still his processor. He could do this, he  _would_  do this if he had to. He’d walk all the way to the base, following those tracks as best he could. He wouldn’t let Megatron defeat him, just as the Autobots hadn’t let the ‘cons defeat them. They’d fought for him, fruitless as they now believed it had been. A part of him was wistful; it would have been nice not to have to fight for a while, to have seen them fight for him and then fight with him to erase the Decepticons presence from his body and processor.  
  
Mirage drew in a jarring breath, the Autobots were gone now and it wasn’t worth dwelling on what could or should have been. He’d have enough time to fantasize about that later, he firmly reassured himself feeling his spark heating softly, pulsing in agreement; when Ratchet refused to let him leave the infirmary, when he had his processor all to himself, Mirage knew he’d be plagued by thoughts of what could have been. He’d probably drive himself half out of his processor over-analysing what had happened to him, and why.  
  
Onlining his optic, Mirage managed to lift his head and grimaced at the motion. He was dizzy, sensors offline or out of sync and a heavy feeling had settled around his processor and audios. Pushing himself fully up to his knees, he clenched his fists waiting for the sensation to abate but after a few unsuccessful moments he staggered to his pedes.  
  
_One pede in front of the other._  Mirage repeated the mantra, moving as he did. It was an ungainly walk and not as fast as he would have liked but it was more productive then he would have envisioned it would be only a breem ago.  
  
He had to do this. Had to prove Megatron hadn’t broken, or  _tamed_  him. He shuddered in deep distaste at the thought of the word Megatron had tried to apply to him and relished in the satisfaction he felt in each lurching stride. He could do this, he  _would_  do this.   
  
Mirage laughed silently, shakily, feeling the faintest stirring of relief at his own perseverance. It was a sweetly satisfying to feel it. He wasn’t sure if Soundwave had been encouraging his processors slow descent into the pit, or whether it had been all his own making, but now without the telepath invading his mind Mirage could be sure of what thoughts and emotions were his own. And he welcomed them all, even the negative ones. The ones he now fought to challenge.  
  
He jumped as a loud noise sounded behind him, half-turning to seek out the source.   
  
_Not Soundwave, anyone but that fragger, please._  
  
Not Soundwave, he was sure on that, but Mirage kept warily scanning the terrain around him.  _Not Soundwave_ Primus why was he so sure of that fact? It wasn’t just because his processor was still his own, why did he know with complete certainty that Soundwave would be distracted elsewhere?   
  
_Because he told you so._  

 

The thought was sharp, though it didn’t cut as deeply as the rush of emotion did as Mirage realized just how he knew. Orns ago it seemed, he remembered what Soundwave had shared with him, what the Decepticon’s intent was. He knew exactly which of his friends were in danger from becoming next on Soundwave’s ‘pet’ list.   
  
_Frag it all to the pit,_  He thought savagely, turning viciously to continue his determined walk and ensure…hope…he could let his friends know about the danger before it was too late. But Mirage misjudged the motion, forgot to counter for his dizziness and the ragged wound in his side. The poor weld gave way almost immediately, tearing the wound open a fresh and sending a sharp stab of pain up Mirage’s side.  
  
It burned and it weakened him enough for his knees to give way. Mirage toppled over, one arm trying to protect his side while the other groped for something to stabilize him.  
  
There was nothing. Nothing except for a slow clapping from behind him. A clapping that, even with a shoddy optic and clouded audios, Mirage could accurately pinpoint even before the bot clapping stepped closer.  
  
  
_He can’t see me; he shouldn’t be able to see me._  
  
Mirage stiffened, a silent involuntary whimper coming as the motion caused the ache in his body to become a spike of pain. Optics were locked on him, sending a horrified realization through him.  
  
_He knows I’m here._  
  
The Decepticon proved just that and leant over him, fingers poking along Mirage’s body and catching the serrated edges of the badly-repaired wound. Mirage hissed at the sudden flare of pain as the other bot cursed, no doubt cutting his own digit on the ragged metal.   
  
“You really couldn’t remain still, could you?” The tone was cold and annoyed, a growl of displeasure punctuating it as Mirage tried to push himself away from the harmful digits. “I suppose I’ll have to do something about that.”


	11. Day 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barricade has rules. Mirage loathes them. Day Seven in the Pit.

  
**Day 7**  
  
Mirage offlined his optics, quietly ignoring Soundwave as the other bot chided his Cassettes and refused their pleas for more ‘practice’. Humiliation coursed through him, making his spark burn as he tried to push aside his fury. A sex bot, those pit spawned Cassettes had used him as a convenient toy with which to play.   
  
Darkly he wondered again if he’d been their ‘first’ interfaces, it had certainly seemed that way. Not only had they all been clumsy and unsure, they’d also been far too impatient too in some cases; Frenzy, in particular, had literally attacked his port in enthusiasm though luckily they’d been only minor tearing which his self-repair handled-not at all like the damage Megatron’s spike had left.  
  
Soundwave had been instructing them, of that Mirage was sure. He hadn’t actually seen the bot but at times some of the ‘cons had got far away looks in their optics-a sure sign of internal communication- right before they tried something new and while Soundwave hadn’t actually been inside Mirage in the same manner he had with Megatron and Starscream he’d certainly been controlling Mirage’s body.  
  
Thankfully, Soundwave had kept Mirage’s processor disconnected-for the most part-from his body, even if Mirage had sensed what was going on he hadn’t felt any kind of sensation-be it pleasure or pain. Though being a prisoner in his own processor and an unwilling spectator had been hurtful in itself, not to mention an uneasy reminder of Hook’s treatment. The Cassettes had used him as easily as Hook had, as Megatron had; they may not have forced violence on his body as they used it, not intentionally anyhow, but the violation was just as acute.  
  
Still Mirage was glad he hadn’t been able to truly feel the Cassettes crawling around his interface panel, and even gladder that he hadn’t had to feel Soundwave riding his processor and experiencing pleasure or pain with him. Soundwave hadn’t been interested in squatting inside his processor when it came to his Cassettes though whether it was because Soundwave found the idea repugnant or whether he knew his creations wouldn’t be at all stimulating, Mirage wasn’t sure.   
  
Mirage onlined his optics as he heard Soundwave’s door snick open, or rather closed he noted as he saw that Soundwave was alone, the Cassettes no doubt ushered firmly out. As Soundwave turned, silent and unreadable, Mirage caught his optics in a long glare. Then he looked away. Boiling with anger, Mirage didn’t say a word, didn’t even acknowledge Soundwave as the Decepticon began repairing the damage to his body. Not for a breem.   
  
Then another breem passed, and another.

Mirage felt anger churn inside at the silently working Decepticon, he was able to hold himself in silent defiance for a time but as the breems passed he felt the anger grow to fury. Soundwave had him physically bound as he worked but the chains had enough give to allow Mirage to shake with the fury he felt, something the Decepticon had to be aware of but was ignoring. That infuriated Mirage more than the Cassettes using him had, that Soundwave would treat him like a non-entity.   
  
He didn’t realize he’d growled until Soundwave locked optics with him, something akin to surprise flitting over his stoic features. Mirage readied himself to verbally assault Soundwave, he’d held himself silent for too long and silence didn’t work with Soundwave like it did with the other Decepticons. They saw it as rebellion and defiance, while Soundwave just appreciated the lack of communication.  
  
“Autobot operating within acceptable parameters.”  
  
Soundwave assessed Mirage for a moment before standing up, towering over Mirage who was bound in a seated position.   
  
“Autobot is ready.”  
  
Ready?  _Ready for what?_  Mirage didn’t even notice the rage abruptly drain out of him, he was too busy trying to make sense of Soundwave’s words as dread crept through his spark.  
  
_Ready for who…_  
  
“Autobot functioning. Maintenance complete. Wash rack visit…desirable.” Soundwave crossed his arms, staring critically down at Mirage, who stiffened, “Soundwave believes Autobot will do.”  
  
Do for whom, that was the question. Obviously not someone Soundwave respected if he could clearly see the remnants of interfaces and didn’t pause to wash them away, Mirage suspected. Perhaps not Hook’s though, that wily ‘con must have found a way to hide from Soundwave’s scrutiny even if he couldn’t his gestalt’s. Mirage imagined Soundwave would be less than pleased if he realized Hook had risen above himself and ‘cut in line’.  
  
_The correct pecking order._  
  
Starscream’s words floated through Mirage’s processor, obviously Megatron had granted someone access-someone Mirage could see Soundwave was unimpressed with. Not that that would stop the bot taking control of him and starting the ‘games’ anew, of that Mirage was sure. Mirage tensed as Soundwave pressed himself into his processor, the Decepticon was like an oily mass leeching into every part of him. Or trying to.  
  
It was foolish to fight and resist, Mirage knew it but it never stopped him trying. He fought for control and for one microsecond he thought he had it. Then Soundwave took control of his body and vocalizer, leaving Mirage to pummel mentally at the invading presence.  
  
_Frag you, it’s my body, my processor-_  
  
He was silent outwardly, vocalizer muted, though not silenced to Soundwave. He barraged him with words and mental punches but it was a fruitless endeavour- Soundwave didn’t even flinch. 

Mirage watched helplessly as the physical being that was Soundwave unwrapped the chains from his body and pulled him up to standing; all the while the dark presence of the bot firmly kept him squashed and suppressed at the back of his own processor. Mirage could only watch as Soundwave led him like a tamed pet to the Decepticon who was to abuse him next.   
  
At the thought of who would be next Mirage felt Soundwave glow with unexpected feelings. Unimpressed, Soundwave was unimpressed at this next ‘master’; he was humouring Megatron-Mirage could feel it- the telepath wasn’t even trying to hide it. All in all Soundwave felt fragged off and severely so, evidentially Megatron pulled Soundwave’s strings as much as Soundwave pulled Mirage’s-  
  
Mirage winced as Soundwave sent a stinging mental retort his way, it was wordless but it burned through him with as much intensity and pain as a laser scalpel would through his body. It hurt like the pit, but satisfaction swept through Mirage at the realization that he  _could_  get to Soundwave, could cut through the other bot’s demeanour. Spitefully he sent the thought again and then cursed in a mental howl as Soundwave retaliated with more pain.   
  
It didn’t slow Soundwave down, didn’t even tickle the metal shields around the Decepticon; it just fragged him off. It was worth it though, Mirage reasoned, even if Soundwave still had control of his body it was a reminder to himself and to Soundwave that the telepath would never have control of his processor or spark.   
  
“Soundwave.”   
  
Mirage’s optics cut to the speaker, surprise flooding through him- _Barricade?_  No wonder Soundwave was annoyed; annoyed, unimpressed yet resigned. Mirage pressed at the emotions curiously, tracing them as his body walked through Barricade’s door into his room. Soundwave was talking to Barricade, laying down rules no doubt, but Mirage blocked out the sound and focused on just what Soundwave was feeling.   
  
Unimpressed, Soundwave hadn’t even counted Barricade as being ‘in the pecking order’ but Megatron had disagreed. Mirage wasn’t sure why Megatron had disagreed, Soundwave clamped down tightly when he tried to edge in and take a look so instead Mirage focused on the other emotions. Resigned, that was easy to place Soundwave knew he had no choice but to obey his leader. Annoyed, that was an interesting one, one Soundwave wasn’t shielding at all. At first probe it could be attributed to being ordered by Megatron however if he pushed a little deeper Mirage could sense the true reason: Soundwave had already had someone lined up for ‘next place’ and had been looking forward to the interface. After Megatron proved a spectacularly boring face, Starscream and his trine proved painful in a way Soundwave hadn’t wanted or expected and his Cassettes were a no-go area, Soundwave had yearned for a truly magnificent interface. Meaning a truly painful one for Mirage.  
  
And painful it would have been. Mirage shuddered, a gestalt violating him; he couldn’t imagine and didn’t care for Soundwave’s fantasies of how that would be. Barricade seemed almost a relief in comparison, though Mirage was sure it would only be a short relief- Soundwave had the gestalt planned for afterwards.  
  
Mirage could tell Soundwave wasn’t expecting Barricade to be a long face, Mirage hoped that would mean he wouldn’t sit inside his processor and dictate, that at least Mirage would have the chance to fight and defy one of the ‘cons but he felt Soundwave take a firmer hold on his processor even as the Decepticon turned abruptly and walked out of the door.  
  
_Frag…_

Soundwave tugged hard at him from inside Mirage’s own processor, making Mirage wince as he found all his-and all Soundwave’s- attention firmly focused on Barricade. Barricade for his part was appraising Mirage, expressionless and considering as he looked up and down Mirage’s body. The frown that appeared on Barricade’s faceplates indicated he found Mirage somehow lacking but the other bot didn’t say a word, instead he reached out and took a hold of Mirage’s servo-firmly leading him further into the room.   
  
Mirage felt Soundwave becoming disgruntled as they headed towards the berth but the emotion gave way to surprise and confusion as Barricade bypassed it and moved towards a closed door on one side of the room. Mirage wasn’t sure how to think or feel but he joined Soundwave’s confusion as the door snicked open revealing a small but impeccably clean washrack.   
  
What had Barricade done that allowed him a washrack of his own? Mirage felt Soundwave’s query to himself but didn’t spend anytime speculating on it because Barricade turned to face him and stepped aside-actions indicating that he was allowing Mirage entry.   
  
_What the frag?_  
  
Mirage felt Soundwave’s bewilderment and joined him in it for all of a minute before Barricade took it upon himself to speak and explain.  
  
“You will enter this wash rack and you will use what I’ve provided to thoroughly clean yourself.” Barricade spoke calmly, his tone brooking no argument, “You will ensure that every part of you is free from dirt and the remnants of others. You will take as long as you take but you will not languish here, you will do as I have told you and know that if I find even the slightest hint of any bot on you that you will be punished, thoroughly.”  
  
Struck mute and incredulous, Soundwave didn’t and Mirage couldn’t respond and so Barricade reached out and cupped his faceplates firmly.  
  
“You will do this now and you will do it properly. I want every inch of you washed, dried and presented to me. Do you understand?”  
  
Mirage felt his helm bob in a nod as Soundwave regained himself and answered for them. Soundwave was still extremely surprised and confused but Mirage could feel those emotions slowly giving way; Soundwave was  _pleased._  
  
“Good.” Barricade waved him inside and paused for one moment at the open wash rack door, “Oh and Mirage, I want  _every_  part of you clean, that includes your spike and port.”  
  
The washroom door slid shut leaving him stupefied, and then humiliation surged through Mirage replacing the surprise. He wanted to defy the order, to cross his arms over his chestplates and ignore it but Soundwave was in control, in command of his body although obviously not the situation, and he wasn’t about to defy the order. In fact, Mirage could feel how eager Soundwave was to obey it-how excited Soundwave was becoming as he stood under the hot water and set about doing just what Barricade had commanded.   
  
Mirage had no idea what Barricade was planning, though he had a sinking sensation not only that he really wouldn’t enjoy it but that Soundwave would. The last time Soundwave had made Mirage really enjoy something it had left the Autobot feeling disgusted with himself and fighting off self-loathing.

Soundwave was methodically cleaning Mirage’s body ensuring indeed that there wasn’t a speck of another bot on it or, Mirage grimaced, in it. He wished Soundwave would at least block the sensations leaking through to him but Soundwave was happily sharing them. Sadistically so, Mirage thought as he experienced the blissful warmth of the water on his body, the slight ache but delicious feeling of being clean as his armour was scrubbed and then, worst of all, the pleasure that heated his port as the water was swept inside it.   
  
Viciously, he pushed his complaints towards Soundwave, trying to make them feel more like barbs against Soundwave’s psyche then the pitiful annoyances they obviously were. The actual washing was over far too quickly though and Mirage was only too aware of how ironic that was given that how much he’d complained to Soundwave regarding the sensations he was forced to feel from it. But after the washing and careful methodical checking and drying, Mirage knew there was much worse to come.   
  
Mirage steeled himself as Soundwave, making a mockery of the manners Mirage always had, cleared away all signs that he-they- had even been inside the rack. Soundwave was delaying, Mirage could tell, sensing the uncertainty the other bot was now feeling. He didn’t have a chance to appreciate Soundwave’s uncertainty though because the bot was already walking his body out of the wash rack and back into Barricade’s room.   
  
Barricade was sat on his berth, energon cube in one hand; he gestured to a mat that sat on the floor in front of the berth and, after a moment’s hesitation, Soundwave sat them down on it. Barricade looked over Mirage’s body with an obviously critical eye, making Soundwave squirm inwardly; this small ‘one up’ on Soundwave pushed away Mirage’s discomfort at being stared at.  
  
“Acceptable.”  
  
Mirage felt Soundwave bristle slightly at this, but Soundwave obviously know when to hold his vocaliser, which made Barricade nod in appreciation.   
  
“Definitely acceptable.” Barricade laughed softly, but it wasn’t an unpleasant ‘something bad this way comes’ laugh, it was more appreciative and set Mirage on edge, even as Soundwave preened from it.   
  
“I suppose you’re wondering what I plan to do with you,” It wasn’t a question and Barricade smiled, bizarrely enough in a non-threatening, almost-approachable manner, as though he wasn’t about to violate and abuse Mirage. “And I suppose you were expecting me to have already thrown you face down on the berth and taken you however I wanted.”  
  
That was what both Mirage and Soundwave had been expecting though neither, Soundwave because he wouldn’t and Mirage because he couldn’t, confirmed that.  
  
“I’m not fan of forced interfaces, in fact I’m not one to hold another bot down and violate him-“ Relief and surprise flooded Mirage, annoyance and confusion Soundwave, until Barricade added, “However, I’m not one to refute a gift and you Mirage are certainly that.”  
  
Mirage bristled as Barricade spoke his name, indignation boiling in his spark as he recognized that it was the second time Barricade had spoken it. Somehow hearing his name was worse than being called ‘Autobot’ or ‘high caste’ or any of the crude insulting names he’d had thrown at him. It was much worse, it made everything all the more personal and was almost violating in itself. Barricade had no right to be using it. He couldn’t say anything though, Soundwave had him mentally pinned and unable to give rise to any thought or motion; although Mirage could still feel every part of his body, he just couldn’t use it.  
  
“I have rules Mirage, rules that you will follow.” 

 

Mirage wanted to tell him he could stick said rules up his own aft but Barricade’s words went unchallenged.  
  
“While in this room you will do exactly as I say. And I mean  _exactly_. You will carry out any task I put to you, however you may feel about it. You will not challenge me, you won’t argue with my orders and you will not try to cajole, beg or bribe me. You will obey without question.”   
  
Mirage felt Soundwave bob his helm in acknowledgement; excitement was coursing through Soundwave now making Mirage feel more than a little uncomfortable as he tried to fight off being sucked into it.  
  
“You will refrain for touching anything, unless I give you permission.” Barricade leant forward handing over a half-filled cup of energon, “If I give you permission you will obey me.”   
  
Soundwave was hesitating, unsure if unspoken permission was being given and Mirage wasn’t about to clue the other bot in. He thought he could read between the lines and Barricade’s body language indicated that Soundwave-he- had permission.  
  
“You will drink that.” Barricade sounded approving that Soundwave had waited, which made Mirage wonder just how he would have reacted had Soundwave just accepted the unspoken permission Mirage believed he had seen. Soundwave drank the energon quickly, the rush of fuel making Mirage dizzy for a moment.  
  
“You will answer if I speak your name and you will only ever reply to me as Master, do you understand Mirage?”  
  
“Mirage understands.” Soundwave was thrown for a moment, answering in a way Mirage never would and Barricade would not be happy with. Quickly though he added, “Master,” to placate Barricade.  
  
Barricade was frowning and for one moment Mirage thought he was about to be backhanded or punched as the Decepticon leant forward, but Barricade merely took the empty cube, a thoughtful expression now on his faceplates.  
  
“Good. If you break any of these rules, if you speak out of turn or disobey me, you will be punished.” He spoke the words silkily, “You are here for my pleasure, not your own. If you are disobedient then you will find I can be most unpleasant but if you are obedient I will allow you to enjoy yourself too.”  
  
Allow him? Mirage felt Soundwave wrestle between anger at the thought of being ‘allowed’ pleasure, at the sacrifice of control, and arousal at the idea of surrendering himself over. Mirage also felt, dread catching in his spark as he did, that Soundwave wanted to push and test Barricade and was also intrigued by the promise of punishment.  
  
He groaned inwardly; all in all Soundwave was one fragged up bot and Mirage, he was the unlucky one who had to be party to it.  
  
“Come here.” Barricade patted beside him on the berth as he spoke. The Decepticon turned so he sat sideways and added, “Sit facing me, legs outstretched.”  
  
Soundwave was already moving, settling quickly into position and Mirage flinched as his legs splayed out, the joints were still tender from earlier Hook’s fixings and would ache to be outstretched for too long. He voiced his complaint to Soundwave, though he was ignored.  
  
“Open your interface plates.”  
  
That was sudden and direct. Soundwave was as thrown by that as both Mirage and the telepath hesitated making Barricade tense in displeasure.   
  
“I don’t wish to repeat myself, Mirage.” There was a warning to Barricade’s tone that prompted Soundwave to obey, baring his port and spike to Barricade. It sent a shiver through Mirage to be so unpleasantly bared like this, while Soundwave was definitely aroused by it- Mirage could feel it slowly sweeping through him.  
  
It was abruptly increased ten-fold as Barricade stretched out a servo and slapped Mirage’s sensitive port. The throbbing ache the slap left in its wake made Mirage cry out inwardly as Soundwave used Mirage’s vocaliser to cry out physically. The shock of the action was belayed as Barricade raised his servo in warning.   
  
“Do not disobey me again, Mirage.” Mirage felt Soundwave shudder in pleasure as Barricade reached out once more and then he was pushing away, fighting the sensations that Soundwave was all too willing to push his way-arousal, pleasure…Barricade traced the edges of his port, teasing in a manner that had this been a consensual act from a lover Mirage would have found himself enjoying. But it sickened him to feel Barricade teasing his port, to feel the pleasure and excitement build in Soundwave and try to sweep through him as heat chased over his body making his port throb and spike release.   
  
Barricade was ignoring his spike and concentrating on Mirage’s port. The Decepticon seemed almost fascinated by it as he slid a digit into the wet and aching port, Soundwave almost bursting with excitement while Mirage tried frantically to build a shield around himself. A shield that would keep out all the pleasuewantneed that Soundwave was experiencing and revelling in. A shield that would keep his processor and sanity safe and in place.  
  
Barricade was using two digits now and Soundwave had to purposefully mute Mirage’s vocalizer to avoid getting carried away and giving sound where Barricade had requested none. Thankfully Soundwave’s excitement had made his port lubricate enough so that Barricade did no damage but as the Decepticon pressed another digit against it, Mirage felt the slow unpleasant burn of being stretched too far.   
  
The pain didn’t seem to hinder Soundwave any though, the other bot was far too readily enjoying the sensation, though as Barricade attempted to ease in another the sudden extra intrusion registered and Soundwave tensed. Stupidly tensed would be a more apt word, the sudden motion made the digit all that more intrusive and his port burned as his spike began to retract.  
  
“No. Remain still.” Barricade spoke firmly, catching Mirage’s attention as the Decepticon palmed Mirage’s retreating spike with his other servo. “Look at me, Mirage.”  
  
As Soundwave obeyed, looking Barricade fully in the optics, the Decepticon nodded slowly. “Remember the rules, Mirage, remember you have to obey them.” All the while he slowly stroked Mirage’s spike sending unpleasant feelings through Mirage; unpleasant in that they were far too pleasurable and his so-called shield couldn’t quite keep them from leaking through. His port began lubricating again as Soundwave relaxed and Barricade smiled, “Good mech.”   
  
It was so condescending, so patronizing that it helped Mirage try to build up his shield by pushing the anger around him. It surprised him how much Soundwave enjoyed being spoken to in that way; Soundwave was so in control believing himself so far above the other Decepticons in his own thinking.  
  
Barricade’s digits slid from Mirage’s port for one relieving moment, but they were back a minute later coated with some kind of oil.   
  
“Good mech.”  
  
Mirage wanted to tell Barricade where to stick his comments and his digits but another digit was joining the other three and the burn was back. Soundwave had Mirage’s cooling fans kick in as the telepath struggled to relax while the digits slowly slid in and out. The stokes to Mirage’s spike helped Soundwave relax, although Mirage once again felt the pleasure the ‘con was feeling attempt to envelope him.  
  
_Oh Primus._  Mirage whimpered as Barricade twisted his servo sinking the entire fist inside, just as he pumped Mirage’s spike. The pain of being stretched was becoming pushed aside by the pleasure of having his spike skilfully handled, and to Mirage’s disgust and horror he felt the pleasurepain every bit as intensely as Soundwave did.

The slagger broke down his shield and swept Mirage up in the sensations. Mirage wept, silently, inwardly even as his body leaned into Barricade’s motions, as his spark throbbed with need and want.  
  
_Not this. Not this._  He chanted the words, trying to hold back as all the sensations swept over him, grasping him tightly. It did little good though, Mirage barely had time to register the words Barricade was muttering to him, the permission he had, as white hot heat flashed through him and both he and Soundwave rode out their overload.  
  
As he slowly onlined his optic, pushing himself stiffly to sitting and then standing, Mirage realized he had control of his body. Soundwave was lazily floating inside his processor and he, Mirage, was the one in control.   
  
He turned his head to look at Barricade, who had removed his servo and now moved to his side, amusement obvious. Before the bot could say a word, Mirage lunged. Only to feel himself stumbling as Barricade anticipated his move and tripped him, making Mirage fall face first on the berth. Then Barricade’s hand smacked sharply on his aft before Mirage felt the pressure of Barricade’s weight on his back and the ache as the Decepticon’s spike penetrated his port.  
  
Mirage wriggled furiously, attempting to dislodge the Decepticon who had currently had both stamina and force on his side. He unmuted his vocalizer as he felt Soundwave stir within him, slowly beginning to reawaken but he abruptly muted it as Barricade laughed in amusement, “I believe I told you that you were here for _my_  pleasure.”   
  
Barricade slid his spike out and then thrust back deeply into Mirage’s aching port, “And didn’t I mention something about disobedience and punishment,  _Mirage_?”  
  
Mirage stiffened, something about the way Barricade now said his name rang alarm bells in his processor. He didn’t have time to ascertain just how Barricade sounded or respond as Soundwave viciously seized control of his processor, giving Mirage a painful mental backhand before he spoke with Mirage’s vocalizer. “I am sorry, Master.”  
  
As Mirage managed to gather his processor, no longer able to feel any sensation but pain from the mental punch, he was able to place just how Barricade sounded. Amused, smug, as though he knew or suspected Mirage wasn’t quite himself. Possibly even suspected that Mirage  _wasn’t_  himself.  
  
It was something Soundwave couldn’t and wouldn’t guess because he was too busy enjoying this new game of Barricade’s, too busy playing Mirage to realize Barricade was suspecting he  _wasn’t_  Mirage.   
  
As Barricade whispered to Soundwave hints of just what ‘punishment’ would involve and what ideas he had to push Mirage’s body to its limits, Mirage sank deep into the back of his own processor. He blocked out the images of energon whips, of spike and port punishment, of Barricade playing at being Lord and Master and getting one over both Mirage and Soundwave. Mirage cocooned himself in his loathing and anger, holding tightly to what little dignity he felt he had left.


	12. Day 9, part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirage can't help but wonder if he'll really be taken home. Day 9 in the Pit.

  
**Day 9: Part 1**  
  
Mirage onlined slowly; his processor was still ringing from the blow to his helm and the thought that he’d not been sent to the matrix was of little comfort as dozens of error and warning messages flashed before him an astrosecond before pain swept through. It burned through him, a wave of pain bringing equally unpleasant sensations with it. His helm ached and audials rang, his spark felt muted and dull, his body stung as though he’d been dipped in acid and his interface equipment…Mirage clicked involuntarily, shuddering as he recalled Megatron’s action, the look of cruel pleasure on the other bot’s face as he tore the panel from its sensitive housing.   
  
The only thankfully thing was that his pain receptors had shorted out, allowing him a very small mercy.  
  
A touch, surprisingly careful, to his chestplates had Mirage flinching away from it as he onlined his one good optic. His first hopefully thought was  _Ratchet?_  as the offending digits were removed with haste but as his focus slowly aligned he felt his heart sink: Thundercracker.  
  
The Decepticon stood before him, silently staring down at him and seemingly oblivious to Mirage’s optic on him. Thundercracker’s gaze was directed towards his exposed interface panel, a strange look on his faceplates that Mirage couldn’t place-which made him all the more uneasy. Mirage felt vulnerable and exposed, he tried to draw up his legs but felt panic shoot through him as his legs refused to move, he was numb from the waist down.   
  
_What the pit?_  Mirage attempted to push himself to an upright position of sorts but Thundercracker pressed a hand to his chestplates again, holding him down with little effort. The feel of the Seeker touching him, restraining him, made the panic quickly take over again as Mirage raised an arm in an attempt to backhand Thundercracker.   
  
He never got the chance. Mirage felt a hand on his arm and another on his chest plates joining Thundercracker’s. He struggled as Skywarp entered his field of vision an exceedingly grim expression on his face. Primus, were the Seekers going to force an interface on him now? His audials rang in protest as he struggled and panic swept through him making the ringing sharper, more intense, his cooling fans kicked on and clicks fell involuntarily from his damaged vocalizer.   
  
“-at me. Look at me, Mirage.”  
  
Mirage dimly became aware that Thundercracker was talking to him, the Seeker’s voice only really registering when he used his name. It started Mirage enough to give Thundercracker the chance to turn into his field of vision. Pity, regret, and something he couldn’t place was written over Thundercracker’s face plates as he locked his optics with Mirage’s.

  
“You have to keep still. Hook’s just finished soldering these lines and he wasn’t pleased about doing it in the first place.”  
  
Lines? Mirage stared at him blankly for longer than was healthy, the words not registering in his processor but as Thundercracker deliberately looked down to Mirage’s side he followed the direction. Lines, right. Energon lines that had been hastily repaired by Soundwave and ripped open again by Megatron were now neatly soldered although the metal from the gash on his side was dangerously close to them.  
  
Thundercracker was still speaking to him, although Mirage still had to strain to hear him over the background whine, the Seeker’s voice even as he added. “Megatron has ordered that you’re to be dropped in the desert, he wants Skywarp to take you after Hook’s repaired your emergency beacon. He believes-“ He paused, a look of distaste surfacing, “-that it’s prudent to take advantage of your soft-sparked comrades.”  
  
An advantage, yes, Mirage could see how that would work. His processor might have been slow and muggy but even he could understand the applications behind Megatron’s methods. If the Decepticons arrived with him then a brief exchange would take place but upon seeing him the Autobots may have gone straight on the offensive. If Megatron had his emergency beacon set off then the Autobots would be divided and that would leave those left to fight outnumbered and give Megatron the chance to seize more energon than agreed. Or more Autobot prisoners, Mirage shuddered at that thought remembering how keen Soundwave was to get his digits on two of them in particular.  
  
“Starscream has gone with Hook to fetch a few items. Since Megatron hasn’t ordered Hook to repair more than the beacon it was sensible to bring them here and have him complete basic reparations.” Thundercracker was easing Mirage back as he spoke and the Autobot was tired enough and sore enough not to resist him. If the Seekers had another agenda or were deceiving him then there wasn’t much Mirage could do about it anyway. If they were going to have Hook heal him then at least it gave Mirage a fighting chance later.  
  
“Starscream’s gone to a lot of effort for you, Autobot, you’d better remember that.” Skywarp sounded angry, though Mirage couldn’t see it directed towards him since Skywarp shifted his gaze to Thundercracker the moment that Mirage looked towards him. Thundercracker had that unreadable expression back on his faceplates but his digits were no longer on Mirage, one was curled around Skywarp’s arm. It looked oddly comforting, like Thundercracker was soothing his wingmate.  
  
It was an uneasy moment until Skywarp shuddered, all the anger suddenly draining from him. The normally energetic Seeker was pensively sober as he moved his other arm and curled his digits around Thundercracker’s. Mirage watched as Skywarp squeezed gently, a reassurance of his own which made the unreadable expression on Thundercracker’s face waver slightly as a hint of vulnerability shone through for all of an astrosecond. Then Thundercracker was stoic as ever and Mirage became aware that both Deceptions had left him to his own devices, neither restraining or choosing to bind him.   
  
If he’d been more repaired and running on more than fumes he may have stood a chance. 

The door snicked open, Starscream striding into the room- a sight that only a short while ago would have terrified Mirage, especially after the destruction of his optics but Skywarp’s words were resonating in his processor. It was the bot after Starscream who made Mirage shrink back as Hook scurried in, a scowl on his faceplates and anger in his optics.  
  
“Finish quickly.” Starscream’s tone brooked no arguments as he set down the items in his arms- a couple of welds, some extra energon lines, Mirage’s interface panel…Mirage stuttered at that, humiliation coursing through him as he recalled the eager way the Decepticons had grasped for his panel- playing with it, tossing it from bot to bot. He swallowed the whine that came at the memory, forcing himself to lock his optic with Starscream’s, refusing to cower or show the deep embarrassment he felt. Surprisingly, Starscream’s faceplates quirked for a moment as respect flashed over them - something Mirage knew he had to have imagined.   
  
Mirage did draw back though, as Hook moved closer. The look in the Decepticon’s optics was enough to make him shrink, his vocalizer grating in protest as Hook insisted the Seekers step out. Mirage knew what that look meant, knew what Hook would be whispering into his pained audials, twisting an energon blade into Mirage’s spark with every word. Not to mention what the bot would do with Mirage so exposed.  
  
He was ready to protest or plead to Starscream for that one small piece of mercy; to have Hook watched rather than the bot left alone with him but Thundercracker had already shifted closer to his side and from the ugly look that flashed in Hook’s optics he saw an unspoken warning. The medic turned towards his tools, a grumbled curse coming from his vocalizer as Starscream and Skywarp moved out of Mirage’s field of vision to confer quietly on the other side of the room.  
  
Mirage slumped in relief as Thundercracker shifted again, the irony of the situation making him unsure whether to sob or laugh however soundless it would be as he realized what relief Thundercracker’s presence brought. He was able to ignore Hook and offline his optic as the medic set about with the most basic of repairs. Mirage did have to still his malfunctioning vocalizer from emitting any sounds as it became evident the medic wasn’t interested in offering pain relief as he repaired the pinched and torn lines and sensors, even taking adding his own touch of sadism as he reset Mirage’s legs to allow feeling.   
  
It wasn’t a patch on the ‘basic job’ Ratchet would have done. The Autobot doctor would have ensured a Decepticon prisoner was fuelled and repaired fully before sending him back. But Hook was a Decepticon and basic aid meant basic aid. He didn’t even wipe the energon stains from Mirage’s frame although Mirage did thank Primus that the medic was restrained in his touching.   
  
He stiffened as a sharp needle thrust into his neck port, optic onlining to blurriness as coldness swept through the port. Hook was leant over Mirage; Thundercracker evidently had decided the medic wouldn’t try anything with the three Seekers still in the room and had joined Starscream and Skywarp.   
  
Frag, it was cold. Cold and biting, certainly not pain relief that so much Mirage was sure of. Then he felt it: invading, probing, and sinking into his processor and systems. He flailed, digits sluggish and slow as he raised them to shove Hook away. He was too late though, Hook’s virus swept through him pressing at what firewalls that remained; the Decepticon’s cruel whisper was the last thing Mirage heard before the ringing in his audials became almost unbearable.   
  
“Tell Ratchet I said hello, and that I look forward to having  _him_  on my table soon.”  



	13. Day 9, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirage wasn't prepared for Starscream to hack him. Day 9 in the Pit

**Day 9: Part 2**

  
Mirage wasn’t aware that he’d offlined from the pain until he slowly felt himself onlining. His processor was as sluggish as his body was, the last memory he could recall was of Hook’s worrying words. 

_Ratchet._

 Another one of his friends wasn’t safe. Mirage struggled to online his optic, fuzziness giving way to focus and he willed and pushed at his audials to behave in the same useful manner. 

  
Unfortunately they didn’t comply, although he was able to temper the ringing to a low drone; irritating but not to the painful extent it had been. Mirage could feel Hook’s virus trying to slip into his systems and he suspected it wouldn’t be long before it managed to completely invade. Right now his own firewalls and systems were fighting to combat it but being so low on energon and with his firewalls already compromised by Soundwave, it wouldn’t take the virus long to compromise him fully.  
  
He had to get away. He had to hope they would let him.  
  
Mirage started as Starscream moved towards him, Thundercracker and Sywarp close behind. Now that his optic had fully onlined and with the ringing muted he could see and hear them though he refrained from advertising that fact to them.   
  
Starscream looked fragged off, Skywarp confused and Thundercracker surprisingly also looked fragged off. Mirage strained his audials as the Seekers spoke above him rather than to him.  
  
“That’s…really weird.” Skywarp’s confusion was all the more obvious from his tone.  
  
“Unexpected,” Thundercracker was agreeing but the agreement was ground out, a tinge of anger to it.  
  
“Hook.” Starscream spat the word out and Mirage was pleasantly surprised to feel that he approved of the SIC deductions which, again, was so ironic for him- approving of Starscream; given the bot’s treachery and spite Mirage had never contemplated that he would.  
  
“Slagging Groundpounder.” Skywarp crossed his arms, joining the other Seekers in their annoyance. “Virus?”  
  
“Undoubtedly.” Starscream had a look of distaste on his faceplates as he looked towards Mirage, “Megatron won’t be too pleased if we can’t activate his emergency beacon, he’s stupidly relying on the diversion.”

 

Mirage’s fans stuttered at that, he could only hope they still intended to return him to the Autobots. Any more time under Hook’s care or waiting for another ‘exchange’ to take place and he wasn’t sure he would be able to hold true to himself. The virus had only managed to seep into a few of his systems but given even another joor Mirage was sure it would have most of them under its influence. That was ignoring the burning pain that refused to subside and the annoyance of his processor and audials. All in all, Mirage had to admit he was pretty slagged. Holding tight to the knowledge that he would soon be home, should soon be safe, was all that kept his spark alight.  
  
“So, let the Groundpounder deal with him.”   
  
Nonchalant as Skywarp sounded, Mirage noticed that Thundercracker was the opposite; the quieter Seeker looked pensive and worried.  
  
“Because that’s what Megatron does,” Starscream spat out sarcastically, “He blames the actual idiot behind the mess and not me.”  
  
The uncomfortable silence that followed was telling, as was Skywarp’s expression of realization that quickly gave way to anger and fear. As Mirage felt Starscream’s optics fall upon him the silence deepened and the Seekers moved as one to surround him. Mirage barely had time to wonder what they planned to do before he felt it- Starscream plugged into the small port on his neck.   
  
A flare of panic shot through Mirage at the sudden invasion, the unexpected violation that was all the more shocking because it was Starscream- And frag but Primus had to be laughing at that one, that he had trusted the treacherous bot not to hack him. Mirage gasped as he felt Starscream sweeping into his processor, far more skilled at such an act then he could have expected; not as thorough or as violent as Soundwave, but accessing his systems nonetheless.   
  
He would have flailed and fought against it had Starscream not immediately taken his motor functions offline. Mirage managed a whine that became close to sound, before his vocalizer completely fried.  
  
Starscream was everywhere, all over, he could see what Soundwave had done; every humiliation would be laid bare. Perhaps Starscream had been lying all along, maybe he would pick up where Soundwave had finished…Mirage cycled his cooling fans furiously, or perhaps it was Starscream that had done it for him, slowly his processor began to calm as he willed himself to focus.  
  
Yes, Starscream was there but the Decepticon wasn’t doing anything, wasn’t leaving anything like Hook had; instead Starscream was searching, bringing up files that Mirage didn’t have time to analyse. The fast motion in his processor was only serving to make him more dizzy but Mirage focused on Starscream, used the other bot as a holding point and slowly willed himself to calm- panicking was only increasing his energon use and thus far he was running on the barest remnants, not to mention bringing him dangerously close to overheating.  
  
Starscream was an intrusive entity in his processor but unlike Soundwave he wasn’t violating or taking over, he was trying to help Mirage presumed. Even if it was trying to help himself so that Megatron didn’t hand him his aft.  
  
A relaxed feeling settled over Mirage as he felt himself floating in his own processor, holding lightly to Starscream to keep himself from drifting. He wasn’t sure what Starscream was doing but curiously he mentally prodded him and was rewarded by a virtual bat as Starscream waved him away. The motion made him jolt briefly, but he kept a firm grip on Starscream and prodded again.

 

*”Will you desist!”*   
  
Starscream wasn’t impressed, the exasperated tone made that very clear but Mirage couldn’t help himself- he mentally prodded the Seeker again, waiting until he felt Starscream’s presence turning towards him and then he asked: *”Why?”*  
  
*”Why?”* Starscream sounded all the more annoyed and a touch incredulous, *”Why am I trying to repair that jumped up repair bot’s work? Or why am I helping you?”* His tone took on a more dark edge, *”Or why didn’t my Trine-mates and I force you to interface with us?”*  
  
*”Why…all.”* It was all Mirage could manage, the effort leaving him stumbling to keep a grip.  
  
Starscream’s bitter laugh was unmistakable as it resonated in his processor, *”Because Autobot, I don’t believe in lowering myself to force interfaces on anyone- for punishment or my own pleasure. Because my Trine-mates and I happen to believe it’s wrong, even if others chose to indulge themselves in such actions.”*  
  
That answer Mirage wasn’t surprised by, although the word *optics* floated through his processor, pulled up of its own accord from the last memory Mirage had of the Seekers and interfacing.  
  
*”Understand this, I’m happy enough to cause every and  _any_  Autobot pain. I’d happily offline you all or tear your sparks out, but I’d never lower myself to  _that_.”* The words reverberated in a shriek, followed by an echo as both bots considered them and then Starscream added, *”And anything to hurt Soundwave also brings me great joy.”*  
  
The answer satisfied Mirage’s question but as much as he was glad not to have been subject to violation by the Trine to say that he was appreciative of Starscream’s actions would have been ludicrous. He wasn’t about to thank Starscream, the loss of his optics and the pain he’d felt- continued to feel in his empty optic socket, in fact - only added to that certainty.  
  
Mirage felt Starscream withdrawing, disgust and annoyance left in his wake as the emotions seeped from the Seeker. Thankfully that was all that the Seeker left behind and Mirage was pleased to feel his motor systems slowly rebooting themselves.   
  
“It’s a virus.” Starscream scowled as he unplugged himself, leaving Mirage dazed for a moment as his processor sought to rid itself of the memory of the Seeker. “We don’t have time to try and wipe it and I, for one, aren’t about to go into the Autobot’s systems again. Frag knows what else Hook or Soundwave has left behind.”   
  
“Did you activate the beacon?” Thundercracker was looking at Mirage now, shaking his helm slowly as if his own optics were confusing him.   
  
“No, the virus has embedded itself in that and other systems as we can well see.” There was a touch of dark amusement to Starscream’s tone, though Mirage couldn’t understand the context. Starscream was oddly hesitant as he reached out a digit and poked Mirage. Annoyed, Mirage lifted sluggish digits to bat Starscream away.   
  
“At least some of your senses still remain obvious outwardly.”   
  
Starscream looked satisfied by that as he stepped back, arms folding across his chest, “Thundercracker, Megatron wishes aerial support; go and lead them in my stead. Skywarp and I will join you shortly. After the Autobot is returned.”  
  
Mirage noticed Thundercracker stiffening, appearing as though he would protest but a glance from his Commander and wingmate forestalled the arguments. He left the room, shoulders that had been slumped straightening as the Seeker proudly strode out.  
  
Returned, Mirage was being returned. He was going home.

 

The relief that he had expected to flood him was strangely absent, only uncertainty and shame in its place. Mirage glanced down at his legs, splattered with energon, dried rivets that led up to his exposed- he drew in a deep breath in shock, emotions whirling into one astounded question that he couldn’t have given voice to even if he had wanted. His interface panel was welded, haphazardly mind and certainly not the job of Hook, but it was welded and fixed to cover his port and spike. He was covered.   
  
A wave of relief crashed over Mirage which quickly gave way to shock and disbelief that Starscream had to have been the bot to cover him, to give him a measure of dignity back.  
  
“Your vocalizer was damaged by Megatron’s attentions and has now been completely disabled, you’re very low on energon and various systems-“ Starscream’s optics flicked over him, “- are malfunctioning.”  
  
Malfunctions weren’t something that surprised Mirage; warnings were flashing up before his processor, one overtaken by the next before he had the chance to decipher them.   
  
“You can stand can’t you?” Skywarp’s question was one that took Mirage a moment to process. In answer he sluggishly twisted his body, stuttering at the pain shooting through his abdomen. Determined to walk out of the Decepticon stronghold, to show what little Decepticons remained within it and the two Seekers, that Megatron hadn’t broken him. That he was still untamed.  
  
However, dizziness overwhelmed him as Mirage set his pedes on the floor and he staggered, straight into Skywarp’s arms. Skywarp evidently had suspected Mirage was less than able because although he didn’t look pleased, he wrapped an arm around Mirage’s chest plates and gripped him tightly. Biting back the urge to thank Skywarp, even before the notion hit that he  _couldn’t_ , Mirage watched as Skywarp laid a hand on Starscream’s shoulder.   
  
Jumping as Skywarp’s thrusters fired, Mirage felt confused as he wondered why Skywarp had fired them inside. For a moment his optic blurred, then a strange cold feeling suddenly swept through him; disorientation quickly following as his audials rang in protest and his processor flooded him with warnings and confused notations. Startled and shocked, he flailed in Skywarp’s arms as Skywarp instinctively tried to tighten his hold.   
  
Mirage fought against Skywarp, his optic trying to focus, his legs kicking out and too late he noticed the absence of ground beneath his shaky pedes just as Skywarp lost his grip. Mirage shrieked mutely, as a cool breeze buffered around him, whistling over his body as he fell through the air. 

It was only a short distance, ten feet or so, but Mirage landed directly on his backstrut and he hadn’t been in the best condition when he did so. Mirage drew in a wordless shocked cry as pain reverberated up his back, jolting the gash on his side. Energon began to trickle once more, warm and leaking behind his interface panel and the hastily welded gash on his side.  
  
It took a few moments for Mirage to actually gather his senses enough and understand just what had happened. Skywarp had warped the three of them into the air outside of the Decepticons stronghold without bothering to warn Mirage what was happening.   
  
Dazed, Mirage looked upwards as Starscream dropped down next to him, the Decepticon was spitting curses and as Mirage’s audials focused he noticed that they were directed at him.   
  
“Slagging Autobot, can you at least try to refrain from injuring yourself further?” Starscream was glowering again and Mirage felt the absurd need to argue back and protest. He’d never warped before; he’d had no warning and no idea that Starscream had intended them to travel in that manner. Not that he could argue back anyway, so the idea was all the more absurd and redundant.  
  
“Did the fall do that?” Skywarp had landed now and was squinting towards Mirage, the Seeker looked a little guilty but it faded quickly as Starscream shook his head.   
  
“No, Hook’s little gift did. The fall didn’t help though.”  
  
Skywarp looked abashed for a moment and then he pouted, “It’s not like I  _meant_  to drop him.”  
  
Starscream shook his head, staring down at Mirage in a way that made Mirage want to back up as far away as possible.  
  
“This complicates things.” Starscream sighed in resignation, “Autobot you will remain here, do  _not_  move from this spot, understand?”  
  
Mirage nodded slowly, agreeing though he had no intention of remaining where he was being left. On the edge of his damaged audials he could hear the sounds of battle and wasn’t about to sit around and wait.   
  
After what seemed like an age, Starscream nodded apparently satisfied and with a whirl of gears both he and Skywarp transformed and shot in the direction of the distinct sounds of metal clashing on metal.  
  
Mirage was in pain and running on fumes but while he could still move he wouldn’t be waiting around on Starscream or any other bot for that matter. Swallowing his own silent scream as pain lashed up his side, Mirage turned onto his belly and forced himself up on shaky pedes.  
  
Steeling himself, he took a step towards the sounds in the distance. He had to do this, he would do this.


	14. Day 9, part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of day 9 in the pit.

  **Day 9, Part 4**

  
The likelihood that Mirage would have remained still and followed Starscream’s orders were laughable, which was why Mirage was surprised at his annoyance. Whether Starscream thought Mirage had actually been tamed to some extent by Soundwave and so he would sit placidly, Mirage wasn’t sure. Perhaps on some level Starscream even believed that he would trust him because of the small acts of mercy he’d thrown Mirage’s way.   
  
Mirage was thankful that he hadn’t been violated by Starscream but the other bot had taken pleasure in ripping out his optics. An excruciating mutilation that would have Mirage’s spark racing long after he’d left the Seeker’s company. While Starscream wouldn’t lower himself or debase his own spark or body by taking Mirage’s forcibly, the Decepticon hadn’t hesitated in making it clear that he was happy to cause misery, suffering and termination to any and all Autobots.   
  
The last Mirage checked he was, despite some vocal protestations from others in the past, an Autobot.  
  
He couldn’t help flinching back as Starscream poked again at the wound on his side, the other mech only just managed to avoid cutting the ragged, barely-repaired metal of Mirage’s body into his own digits.   
  
“I suppose I have to give you credit, you do have some form of determination to save your own spark.” Amusement, dark and rich, was obvious in Starscream’s voice as his digits moved higher up Mirage’s body, coming to rest on his neck.   
  
As they moved lightly over the port in his neck, still exposed from Starscream’s last probing, Mirage jerked back-a groan silently welling up and turning into a more silent cough that splattered small drops of energon down him.  
  
“Disgusting.” Starscream’s optics glowed in annoyance and he braced himself against Mirage, holding him still. “Desist, Autobot!”  
  
If Mirage had been in a more fit and able state, if perhaps he hadn’t watched his friends turning their back on him –however unknowingly- before leaving him behind, or if Mirage had even been able to muster more strength to then he might have fought back.   
  
Instead he did something that made his spark ache and processor howl, he stilled himself and allowed Starscream’s probing and none-to-gentle digits to hurriedly access his port.   
  
He supposed that now, with no use for ‘bait’ and no reason to keep him among the other Decepticons since he was well used and worn, Starscream had been given the honour of disposing of him. Or perhaps Starscream had plans to use him to get to Soundwave; Mirage’s processor conjured up the possibilities there. He supposed that Starscream might presume that Soundwave would like his favorite ‘toy’ back, even if it was for the joy of watching and feeling his demise at the hand of one last indulged Decepticon, or even a Gestalt maybe-given that the last had nearly finished him off as it was. Starscream was cunning enough to devise a way of sending feedback to Soundwave, the virus or another nasty surprise…

*”Much as it may disappoint your processor, and my own now given that your idea has merit-“* Starscream flooded through his thoughts and Mirage jolted, surprised by the intrusion and more concerned that he hadn’t even felt Starscream hacking him, *”I don’t intend to allow you anywhere near the rest of the Decepticons, or back into that filthy Groundpounder’s grip.”*  
  
Mirage didn’t reply to that, he allowed disbelief to seep through the temporary bond between them. He’d understood and seen the role he’d had to play before, when Starscream and Skywarp had had an intended use for him as bait. Now he was of no use to anyone, a cold thought that made him wince as shame and humiliation followed it.  
  
*”If you’d prefer to wallow here in your own pity, I can easily leave you to it, Mirage.”* Starscream snidely interjected as Mirage felt the beginnings of something sweep his system…was that an antivirus?   
  
Confusion and pure shock flooded him, he felt a very basic scanning and reshuffling as the foreign object began to systematically beat back the numbness that had clouded his processor.  
  
It was slow, excruciatingly so, but Mirage could feel an effect as things slowly began to slip into focus and pain, agonizing yet reassuring pain swept through him-no longer tempered and held back by the virus.  
  
*”I would prefer that you didn’t.”* The words were hard to form and admit to Starscream, in part because the virus had played havoc with his processor and communications though more because of who he was admitting it to- Starscream, second-in-command to the Decepticons, a firm Autobot enemy and all-round unpleasant, backstabbing bot.  
  
Perhaps Starscream had an agenda that his addled processor just couldn’t and wouldn’t fathom until he was fully repaired and restored or, more likely, Mirage imagined many a confusing joor wiled away just wondering ‘why’.  
  
The fact that he’d saved Mirage before and seemed to be doing so again was processor-blowing and something Mirage couldn’t equate with logic or his spark….unless Starscream planned to turn around and rip out his spark in true Decepticon style, backstabbing and vicious to the last, imparting the greatest violation when Mirage was truly surprised and broken.  
  
*”Because Decepticons are all vicious and violating bots, and the Autobots pure and virtuous.”* Starscream sounded both bitter and angry as he flooded Mirage’s processors with images: Ironhide with canons smoking over fallen Decepticons, Sunstreaker with energon covering him as equally as it did Sideswipe, both wearing matching expressions of fury and battle lust. Autobot after Autobot, some Mirage didn’t even know but who worn the emblem, showing just as little restraint and fury.  
  
*”On the battlefield, not-“* Mirage held back the description, his own memory coming to the front of his processor for Starscream to see: Decepticons sneering and howling in pleasure and triumph, his interface port thrown from con to con.  
  
Mirage felt a flash of something from Starscream, a hint of shame superseded by a deep, dark anger as several of the unknown Autobots images flooded his mind again, triumph and victorious wearing the same expressions as the cons had and something clicked in Mirage’s processor-  
  
*”No, not possible.”* Shaken, he pushed the certainty towards Starscream, who batted it back with a finality that stunned Mirage.  
  
*”Why don’t you ask your  _medic_? Or better still, your  _Prime_?”*

 

Sickness suffused Mirage, a churning in his tanks that had nothing to do with the antivirus or his injuries. The thought, the notion that Autobots had done what the cons had to him and worse the certainty with which Starscream gave it as fact. And that Starscream believed Ratchet and Prime would too.  
  
*”Primus.”* It was a ghost whisper over the bond between them, the last thought over it before Starscream tugged himself away, looking down on Mirage with a loathing that made Mirage believe the con was having second thoughts. At that moment, he looked like he was very able and willing to rip out Mirage’s spark, if he hadn’t already metaphorically done so.   
  
Shaken to his spark, Mirage watched Starscream step back suddenly before the con lunged. Panic flooded Mirage for a moment but Starscream was already above him, flown through the air without a word or motion and in that moment Mirage could only hope and try to convince himself that the Decepticon was trying to processor frag him with his last few words.  
  
But it was excruciatingly difficult now that he was alone, or relatively so. Mirage cringed as bullets suddenly ripped into the ground around him, close but not devastatingly so that they would injure him. He kept Starscream’s words in mind and this time he remained still as the bullets danced around him.   
  
The anti-virus was fighting back against Hook’s virus but the ringing in his audials had only tempered moderately, likely due to damage from Megatron’s punches. The shooting didn’t help much either. The pain in his body convinced Mirage to keep still as much as the weapons fire that hit the ground around him, his tanks still churned slightly but he was more worried by the choke of his own systems. Much as he didn’t want Starscream to land beside him again, he was running on fumes and still leaking energon-a deadly combination.  
  
Home…he wanted to be home. And for once that wasn’t Cybertron in all her glory. It wasn’t where he’d once longed for so passionately, it was with his fellow Autobots. With his friends.  
  
_Is it truly safe though? With Soundwave still out there and…_  Images of the unknown Autobots that Starscream had shared with him came to his processor once more and Mirage shuddered,  _Is it?_  
  
Mirage’s desperate thought was cut off as he felt deep vibrations underneath him. The ground shaking from more than just bullet ricochets. A booming overhead made him duck down, his helm lowered and body drawn tight as he tensed.  
  
_Primus, let it be them._ The thought seemed to sob in his mind as Mirage struggled to see where the vibrations came from. He twisted, trying to turn himself fully and peer blearily around but the motion aggravated his side and pain tore through him putting Mirage off-balance. For one sickening moment the world around him titled and blurred, became hazy and seemed so very far away and then he fell to the ground. Mirage rolled onto his side, his  _bad_  side mistakenly and bit back a muted howl.   
  
It hurt, hurt like the pit and it was all he could do to still himself as Starscream’s bullets thundered down, unnervingly close.   
  
The Seeker evidently felt the need to reiterate his point and Mirage stilled, body tense and gaze fixed to the ground. He curled digits into the ground beneath him and focused on keeping himself online. He felt the energon seeping from the repeatedly aggravated wound on his side, the flow only slight for now but it was sure to increase the longer he lay there. Mirage was faintly, darkly, surprised at the sticky warmth that had made itself apparent again-given how much he’d spilled he hadn’t been sure he had much left to lose.  
  
The vibrations deepened, they seemed all around him for one dizzying moment but Mirage couldn’t be sure it wasn’t his confounded processor that was just experiencing difficulties; he kept his optic firmly trained to the ground, he didn’t need the aggravation of dust getting into it, especially when it wasn’t working at peak efficiency as it was-shoddy con cast off.

A deep blast signalled the end to Starscream’s hail of bullets, Mirage didn’t hear Starscream cursing or the slight screech of his damaged thrusters as they fired quickly propelling him away, he was too busy freezing as pedes finally came into his optic’s view and digits grasped at his shoulders, trying to turn him.   
  
Mirage wanted to fight; he felt an instinctive surge of defiance and desperation and tried to twist away, to throw himself back from the intrusive touch. Con or Autobot, Mirage wasn’t sure and he wasn’t about to lie down for the cons.   
  
“-rage, Mirage?” The voice was familiar, deeply shocked and horrified; it was enough to still Mirage, to allow his processor time to focus as did his optic. The hazy image of the familiar bot, his worry obvious, was a sight for sorry optics and for the first time in a long time Mirage felt his body relaxing.  
  
Not that he had much choice in the matter, the moment his processor caught up with his optic Mirage felt a deep tremble come over his body which left him limp and strutless.  
  
“Bumblebee.” He spoke the bot’s name but no sound followed his motions, his vocaliser hissing instead. Mirage watched as Bumblebee’s eyes locked onto the twisted remains and he saw horrified realization and a flash of fury and hate cross Bumblebee’s faceplates.   
  
“Megatron.” The word was ground out and had Mirage flinching involuntarily. “Oh Mirage, I’m sorry.”   
  
Pity, Mirage turned away from it, humiliation coursing through him. Already he saw pity and Bumblebee hadn’t even seen the rest, hadn’t looked over his mutilated body and seen the shame which his damaged interface plate tried to hide.  
  
He couldn’t process it, couldn’t let himself feel…anything. He felt numbed, too many different thoughts and emotions overloading maybe or perhaps Soundwave had finally done it, finally broken him without lifting a digit.  
  
Mirage kept his optic determinedly away from Bumblebee, the other bot’s stammered words falling on purposefully deaf audials.   
  
He’d wanted home, wanted his friends but this didn’t feel like home and he wasn’t even sure it felt like friends.  
  
He jerked back as digits reached for the port at his neck, another sign of his shame. This time it was the familiar figure of Ratchet who knelt in front of him, who thankfully showed only horror and fury as he spoke quietly to Mirage.   
  
Mirage allowed himself to listen, allowed Ratchet to explain without pity and he savoured the anger in the medic’s tone-anger was good, anger was useful, it wasn’t pityhumiliationpain. Mirage let Ratchet move digits over him, felt him patch quickly and cleanly as he spoke, all the while explaining what he was doing and why.   
  
It was reassuring, soothing in a way to see Ratchet being Ratchet without anything else coming into play. And when Ratchet accessed his neck port again, making him involuntarily flinch  back for a moment, Mirage told himself that it wasn’t because of Starscream’s words, it wasn’t because he believed Ratchet had anything to do with vileness like that.   
  
_Home. Safe._  
  
That was what Mirage told himself anyway.  
  
His fear however wouldn’t be hidden from a horrified Ratchet as the other bot was hit by a mass of emotion and suffering that thankfully only lasted a spark-shuddering few seconds before Mirage was medically offline.


	15. Day 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Free from the Pit. Day 11.

  **Day 11:**

The first thing Mirage was aware of was that he hurt. Ached all through his frame, even. It wasn’t a sharp or stabbing pain, it wasn’t the feeling he usually got after a hard fight or intense training, it was something else. Something he couldn’t quantify. Something…shameful, though he couldn’t place why that was the fleeting emotion he felt. His processor felt sluggish, like he’d been without recharge for far too long or been purging viciously and Mirage knew that should have been terrified, should have felt his spark clench and vents hitch as he realised something was wrong, but instead his processor just felt numb.

A nagging prod to the side of it flagged up familiar codes that should have relaxed him immediately if he had been panicked, would normally relax him, instead as he noted their very presence Mirage felt panic grip him. He trembled involuntarily while what should have been a high pitched whine came out as a rasping grate.

His vocaliser was malfunctioning. Mirage groped for it and felt panic suffuse him as his digits met loose wire and a hole where his usual armour would normally sit.

 “Frag it to Pit!”

Ratchet’s curse made him jump, the tremble back in full force though Mirage couldn’t explain why. It was _Ratchet_ , why in Primus should that fill him with uncertainty and fear? A healthy dose of trepidation was something any Autobot should expect if they were reckless with their health but not the kind of fear Mirage felt; the kind of uneasy fear that came with not knowing, with suspicion.

Suspicion was something Mirage had experienced levelled at himself by others far too many times to not recognise it,  especially when it came from his own processor but Ratchet was one bot who had never demonstrated it towards him nor deserved it.

A weight on his shoulder made Mirage tense and he took a breem to sternly push himself, to force himself to relax under the medic’s familiar servos. Before he had a chance to get his body back under his control, Mirage felt something cool in his main energon line- something that had every joint, junction and spring relaxing.

“You’re burning through my sedatives faster than ‘Jack can make new ones.” Ratchet’s gruff voice was coloured by a tinge of anger. *”Is this link stable, can you access it? I don’t want you trying to use your vocaliser, Mirage.”* Ratchet’s voice was inside his processor now, linking them together without exposing Ratchet to anything untoward.

*“My apologies.”* Mirage’s words were soft, impeccable manners coming to the forefront as a quick defence against any ire.

 *“You’ve got nothing to apologise for, it’s that damn virus the cons pumped you full of- seems there was a few Trojans hidden in it that whoever tried to clear it from your systems couldn’t purge. Though who’d have enough compassion there, I don’t know. Sure as Pit isn’t Hook, I recognise his work and I know he was the one who infected you.”*

 _Hook_ …Mirage felt disgust churn his tanks and he vented sharply, trying to keep them steady. It wasn’t to be though and Mirage felt himself quickly turned to one side as Ratchet anticipated the purge that spewed energon from within him. It was vile, acrid, but surprisingly Mirage felt better for it as Ratchet settled him on his side.

*“Why are my memories firewalled, Ratchet?”* Mirage spoke the words as he recognised the work within his own processor, Ratchet’s codes and what to be Wheeljack’s or perhaps Perceptor’s intermingling to keep at bay Mirage’s memory files. Memory files which seemed all the more ominous for the firewall.

 *“It’s only temporary, you know I would never do such a thing unless it was medically necessary, don’t you?”* Ratchet sounded weary, the anger drained from his voice now.

*“Yes, I know, but I don’t understand.”* Mirage paused, he wanted to know and yet he didn’t, he felt torn. *“What happened to me?”* Mirage spoke the words quietly and immediately followed them up, realising that he couldn’t even assess his own frame visually. *“Will you turn my optics back on? I appreciate you turned them off for whatever reason, but if it was to protect my sensibilities I can assure you that I would rather see the damage to my frame then be left in the dark. It’s-“* He hesitated, *“Disconcerting.”* Especially as Mirage’s imagination was creative enough to begin taunting him with the possibilities and Mirage didn’t want it coming to that.

Mirage felt Ratchet hesitating, the medic’s hand on his shoulder once more in reassurance.

*”We had to take the optic offline, there were too many errors, I’m just surprised-“*

Mirage heard Ratchet cursing suddenly and extremely colourfully inside his processor and he could sense the mental slap Ratchet gave himself as the other bot realised that not only did Mirage not understand what he was saying but why. The Firewalled memories held the answers, Mirage was sure of that and it appeared that they would answer his questions far better than Ratchet or anyone else could. That Ratchet had been forced to firewall his memories suggested that they were deeply disturbing, possibly corrupted and maybe even contained the virus that had been mentioned.

 _Try all three._ His own thought echoed darkly in his processor, it and the bitter amusement behind it immediately picked up by Ratchet.

*”The virus is contained to the best of my knowledge for now, Mirage.”* Ratchet’s tone held a clear ‘but’ within it though Ratchet didn’t speak the word. *”Hook gave it a few added extras and it did successfully hide itself several times. I won’t feel comfortable letting down the firewall until Wheeljack, Perceptor and Prowl have checked over the code.”*

Alarm surged through Mirage at the notion of his processor laid bare to so many different bots, however professional they would be. Ratchet was bad enough and Mirage could only imagine what the ‘cons had to have put him through before he was returned to Ratchet’s medbay. Whatever taunts and sneers, the tortures…all interwoven with his own memories from the corrupting virus no doubt. His own personal memories, emotions, everything that was sacred.

Mirage shuddered at the idea, servos clenching and unclenching, spark aching at the idea of such a violation, of being laid out for so many to scrutinise.

*“No!”*

The word made Mirage jolt and he gasped, venting when he hadn’t realised he’d been holding himself in from doing so. He coughed, rasping air into his intakes which triggered him to cough vigorously.

*”No, Mirage.”* Ratchet’s words were softer now, attempting to calm though Mirage was wary. *”No one will see anything but code, you have my word on that. Only I can access your memories in the same way you can and I would never do that without your permission.”*

Mirage understood the words and they should have set his spark at ease but something held him back, something still made him uneasy of Ratchet though without his memories he couldn’t place what. It had to have been something of some impact though for the worry to be present without the memory. Stranger still the wariness was accompanied by a surge of worry for Ratchet, a protectiveness. Mirage could only deduce that it had something to do with his incarceration, perhaps something one of the ‘cons had said- a threat maybe, or a plan.

He needed his memories back.

*”Not knowing is worse than knowing.”* He spoke the words softly to Ratchet and could  feel the other bot’s agreement though there was a reservation there that sent a shiver of doubt through Mirage.

*”You’re right. You’re a soldier, not a sparkling and I don’t mean to treat you as one. I am-*” Ratchet hesitated as the emotion - _protective_ \- came to Mirage’s processor. A healer, a medic, Ratchet would be truthful when others would seek to colour words.

*”I would rather know before I have the memories returned. I know some would rather take the short respite of ignorance but I wouldn’t.”* Mirage meant every word; he’d rather be forewarned and therefore forearmed.

*“Which is good because I can’t let down the firewall yet, not until they’ve all cleared the code and that could take another day, perhaps longer since Prowl was injured himself and I’ve ordered him to medical recharge.”*

Prowl would obey Ratchet too, Mirage was sure of that. Not because he and Mirage weren’t friends and therefore Mirage was a lower priority but because Prowl respected Ratchet’s orders and wrath. Not least because Prowl would know that he would be less efficient if he didn’t recharge

 *”What happened to me?”*

*”11 days ago the ‘con’s took you. You were on a recon mission, off the grid for nearly a day before you missed your check in and we realised something had happened. I’m not sure how they discovered you were spying on them, but I suspect it had something to do with Soundwave since Prowl discovered his pit-spawned twin glitches spying on one of our operations.”*

_Soundwave_

The name slithered through Mirage’s processor making him feel like purging and screaming all at once. He could feel coldness in his processor, a weight muddying things up as the name echoed.

*”Yes. Him.”* Ratchet’s words were grim, his servos gently stroking Mirage’s backstrut in comfort. *”He hacked you, controlled you to some, if not every, degree from the look of things. We found chips in your processor that he had to have installed while you were offline and one at the back of your neck that looks to have been ripped off by talons.”*

Bad enough his processor had been tampered with, that was a violation that Mirage couldn’t focus on right now- it was to horrific to consider and imagine what Soundwave had forced him to do. *”Talons?”* The word made Mirage shiver, made him involuntarily flinch his head back for an unclear reason that was about to be explained.

*”Seeker talons. We found the same around your optic and optics shell.”*

*”One of the Seekers ripped out my optic?”* It was a horrifying thought but certainly explained his involuntary reaction, Mirage believed.

*”Both of your optics. They so magnanimously replaced one but as usual it was a substandard part in combination with substandard work. Wheeljack is calibrating two of our replacements for you, but we needed to remove the other first and repair the casing. Thankfully you are healing up nicely, albeit slowly because of the virus.”* There was a brief pause before Ratchet gruffly added, *“You’re far stronger then you’ll give yourself credit for, no doubt.”*

That was a double sword itself, it implied that Ratchet thought Mirage a survivor of sorts but that Mirage had been to the Pit and back for it. Which Mirage supposed that he was likely to have given he’d been a Decepticon prisoner.

*“I hope so. I’m right to assume that they interrogated me? Ripped my optics out to torture me?”* He tried for indifference, Mirage truly did. He knew the price of war, of interrogation. He’d been a prisoner several times before and was well aware of the violent proclivities of some of the ‘cons. Usually Megatron, Soundwave or Starscream kept them in line. Usually though the ‘cons needed something so bot’s didn’t tend to stay prisoners for long.

There were a few exceptions obviously; some bots had a ‘kill not capture’ order on their heads, some bots the ‘cons weren’t bothered with and would go on whimsy, and some were ones that wouldn’t be returned regardless of how much was offered. Medical and Scientific bots tended to be on the capture list with the exception of Wheeljack who’d taken out half the ‘cons command staff by accident once when forced to work for Starscream. Given Wheeljack’s innate lack of worry for his own safety and the knowledge everyone had that he had, on occasion, blown up his own research area or at least damaged it, Megatron had issued a ‘kill or leave the frag alone’ order.

*”We can only presume it was torture, the Seekers would be the last bots I could see doing it any other reason.”* Ratchet’s words were contemplative and Mirage frowned at them, wondering what other reasons could surely apply.

*”Megatron did the most damage to you, I recognise his handiwork on your vocaliser though luckily yours was just badly damaged and not completely obliterated which means we can repair it.”

The thought of being in Megatron’s servo made Mirage’s engine stutter about as much as hearing his name did. Mirage had always had a healthy fear of the Decepticon Leader but he’d never shown it. He’d kept it hidden along with other worries or unease, he’d had to. After all how could he spy on those he was terrified of? What use was a spy that couldn’t be within 100 feet of his target? Especially one who needed to be in extremely close proximity.

He would just have to unlearn the fear or seek to overcome it, Mirage reasoned. He wouldn’t allow the memory torture and fear to keep him grounded.

*”There’s no easy way to say this Mirage.” Ratchet sounded both weary and on edge, as though he was about to deliver information that he wished he didn’t have to.

*”We’re still gathering the data on exactly what happened to you and who was responsible, it’s going to take some time especially with your memories firewalled. I had a few seconds of experience of some of them and for that I’m sorry. As I told you before I would never look through memories without your consent and that isn’t a lie but when I managed to establish a link with you the first time the virus had shot half your systems to frag and you broadcasted some of them to me.”*

Ratchet was apologetic in both tone and emotion, the mech broadcasting his guilt unconsciously towards Mirage. For his part, Mirage was more concerned about Ratchet. The idea of bots picking through his memories had been and still was both repugnant and terrifying but the idea that he’d broadcasted, likely _forced_ them on Ratchet while the medic had been trying to help him was just so.

Mirage couldn’t imagine that Ratchet had much first-hand knowledge of torture; he suspected that most of it came from repairing and healing afterwards. The truth was always laid out in the healing but it was very different to being assaulted in your own processor and feeling the pain, fear and helplessness that came along with it.

*”Don’t you dare.”* Ratchet’s voice was calm, steady, cutting off the apology Mirage had been about to voice. *”It wasn’t down to you, you weren’t in any way responsible and if I had to do it again then I wouldn’t hesitate. Understand?”*

He did and Mirage was thankful for it especially since he knew Ratchet was probably going to experience a few disturbed recharge cycles and unwanted emotions and side effects from what he’d experienced.

*”The virus glitched your systems, especially your cloak. That’s why it took us longer to find you. Megatron helpfully delivered you to a location we couldn’t even find.”*

Mirage could sense that Ratchet felt the Decepticon had done it on purpose to prolong Mirage’s suffering and the Autobots fear.

*”You nearly offlined permanently, Mirage. It was close. Too close.”*

Ratchet’s words were chilling. He’d nearly gone to the matrix? Mirage couldn’t remember it and couldn’t grasp at any emotion associated with knowing that, perhaps he’d been unaware of his own imminent demise.

*”The damage was that bad?”*

*”Yes. The con’s weren’t after information, Mirage, this was all about power and punishment and control. They abused you mentally and physically.”* There was a brief hesitation before Ratchet added, *“I won’t list your injuries, suffice to say over 70% of your frame needed repair and 30% replacement. There wasn’t a part they didn’t touch. They committed atrocities that I’ve seen on thankfully few others-“*

*“They raped me.”* It wasn’t a question because Mirage could see the truth in Ratchet’s processor even before the medic said the words that had been about to come. Thank Primus that Ratchet’s firewall was holding because given just how vulnerable and shaky Mirage felt hearing the truth clinically, he would have probably knocked his processor offline to avoid remembering it. He almost couldn’t believe it. Almost.

*“I’m sorry.”* There was no pity, only sympathy in Ratchet’s tone and broadcasted across their link and Mirage clung to it. He didn’t want or need pity. He didn’t know what he needed. The idea of being forced to interface with anyone beyond a bot of his choosing or his own self was repellent. It sickened and disgusted him, made anger and grief rush through him in equal quantities.

 _Why me?_ He thought it but instead gave voice to, “Who?”

Mirage certainly couldn’t remember but he wanted to, he wanted to know which sick Slaggers had done it.  

Ratchet seemed to weigh up whether the information would actually help Mirage or not before obviously reluctantly deciding that he had a right to know, *“I ran some tests yesterday. I’ve managed to identify Megatron, Barricade and Mixmaster, there’s no sign of any other fluid belonging to anyone else though given the damage to your body it wouldn’t surprise me if there are other assaults hidden by other injuries. I can certainly tell that Hook’s been at your frame, pit poor excuse for a medic could rarely even do a decent patch job.”* Ratchet paused as he noticed an involuntary hitch to Mirage’s intakes.

Mirage couldn’t work out why Hook’s name still filled him with dread and a fleeting hint of disgust but he heard Ratchet turn to the machine next to him and punch at the pad on it.

“Slagger.” Ratchet hissed out the word and Mirage started as Ratchet’s digits involuntary tightened on his shoulder for a moment. It wasn’t painful, more like Ratchet was grounding himself and trying to contain his anger. “How dare he do that to a _patient_.”

He couldn’t sense it but Mirage couldn’t help but wondered if Ratchet was accessing his memories as he spoke, even though he’d sworn not to. He tried to push the idea aside but he kept jumping from safe to uneasy around Ratchet and couldn’t fathom why.

*“It’s in very minute quantities, the machine wasn’t looking for that low a percent, but Hook’s fluid is also present. The Slagger must have removed himself from you or taken some kind of precaution to ensure his fluid was undetectable. Almost undetectable.”* Ratchet spoke flatly and Mirage could feel that he was holding his anger at bay, gathering it to one side to focus later. *“He won’t come near you again Mirage, I’ll tear his spark out myself before he gets the chance.”*

*“Don’t!”* Mirage could feel the truth and passion behind Ratchet’s words and it terrified him far more then reassuring. *”Don’t get close to him Ratchet, please, it’s not safe. For you, it’s not safe.”* He wasn’t sure why he said the words but he could guess and so, evidentially, could Ratchet.

Mirage suspected rather than knew that Ratchet had managed to firewall some of the memories that he had accidently transferred. The medic was probably holding them at bay from sheer stubbornness and would have let himself experience only in recharge, once his job was done. Which meant that Ratchet would have a few more nightmares to come.

*”I’ll be fine.”* Ratchet’s words were tense but Mirage knew he wouldn’t engage in an argument, wouldn’t be stubborn and insist he’d do it because in truth Ratchet didn’t know that he could. Nor did he know if the same atrocities that had befallen Mirage wouldn’t befall him. Or anyone else for that matter.

_Atrocity_

It was a good descriptive word and one Mirage felt fit the situation perfectly, if albeit a bit clinically. Forced interfaces were an atrocity. They were something Mirage had heard of in horror tales, some too old and twisted to be true. More legend. They were something he had been prepared for, all of the special ops team were, he’d had suspicions on occasion that things had come close to the mark for some bots but not definitive proof.

And here he was. The proof.

He wanted to scream and rage and tear every con a new aft, but he couldn’t. He just felt numb. Tired. His hand suddenly flew to his chassis, his horror obvious to Ratchet as was his unspoken question.

*“No, no one touched your spark in any way like that.”* Ratchet sounded as relieved to give that news to Mirage as Mirage felt at it. At least one part of him was _safe, sacred, clean._ It was then Mirage realised he’d broadcasted to Ratchet again.

*”You nearly offlined permanently Mirage, you’ve been to the Pit and back. What the ‘cons did-“* Mirage felt Ratchet’s anger surge though the medic hammered it back down into submission to retain his professional front. *”You are safe. You aren’t unclean though I appreciate that you will feel that way and there’s not a thing I can say to change that. You’ll get your memories back and we’ll work through them. We’re all here for you Mirage, everyone will fight for you. I’m here for you as your medic… _.and your friend_.”*

Mirage felt dizzy as Ratchet shared one of his own grim memories. Mirage saw himself nearly offlining on Ratchet’s table, memory purges from the virus shaking his frame while Ratchet tried to repair torn lines as Wheeljack and Perceptor assisted. The shaking was tearing new lines and causing Mirage to lose energon as fast as Ratchet could line up bots to donate and Wheeljack could hook up-

*“They donated for me?”* Mirage pulled himself out of the memory and was hesitant, a small amount of vulnerability creeping into his tone.

Ratchet’s voice was heavy but sincere, *“You are an Autobot, Mirage, regardless of how much you and some of the slaggers here frag each other off. And you have friends,” He laid a servo back on Mirage’s shoulder who for once didn’t flinch, “I hope you’d count me as one even if I couldn’t donate myself. Bots were lining up outside the medbay to help.”*

It seemed unbelievable. Mirage had only seen that happen once before when Optimus Prime had been badly injured and Bumblebee, but everyone liked Bumblebee. _Why does that thought worry me?_  He thought as a frisson of unease raced through him. It was chased away as Ratchet shared another memory, one of Perceptor’s this time as the bot waved one slightly unsteady energon depleted Autobot – the aforementioned Bumblebee- out the door and ushered in another.

 _Sideswipe?_  

 _You have friends. You are safe._ The words echoed in his processor and for a moment Mirage let himself believe them, let himself trust and most importantly, let himself ***hope***.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: That’s it for now. I hope everyone enjoyed. There is one day missing, for a reason which will be explained in some short snippets and ficlets .
> 
> I’m doing an a-z challenge for short drabbles as a side series.
> 
> If there are any questions or comments I’m really interested to take them, even if they may come up in the A-Zs.


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